Homecoming
by Team Damon
Summary: Alternate ending to Life After Death. Despite Nelson & Murdock's best efforts, Bucky is convicted of the Winter Soldier's crimes and sentenced to life in prison. With his family torn apart and struggling to move on without him, he faces a lifetime of solitude and madness until one day he's offered a deal with the devil in exchange for what he wants most in the world - to go home.


**A/N: hey guyyyssss! So, I've had this little number in the works for quite awhile now, a few months, and before I say ANYTHING else, I have to first say that this would not exist without the help of Nikki-AvengersLover. She sent me a lovely message a few months back with an idea for an alternate ending for Life After Death, and as soon as I read it I knew that it was something I HUGELY wanted to do. So all of the credit for the idea goes to her, and I have to thank her profusely for sharing her thoughts and giving me the idea for something that I very much enjoyed writing and am super excited to share with all of you :D In fact, this whole thing is dedicated to her.**

 **Now, sidenote for readers of my current main fic Till Death Do Us Part: I tried to get the next chapter for the story done by my usual Thursday deadline but this week has been very busy for me and I also had a hard time writing it in general, so unfortunately, no update this week :( but I had this thing mostly finished so I tackled it again and added the last few scenes so that I'd at least have something to offer you guys this week. Next update for TDDUP should be next week, at my regularly scheduled Thursday :) I'm sorry for the delay, but ya know... stuff happens lol.**

 **ANYWAY :) my thanks to ALL of my lovely and amazing readers, the ones who review and the ones who don't, and all the ones who read _Life After Death_ and endured that rollercoaster of angst with me :D this is a little addition to that rollercoaster, and as the summary suggested, basically this is set ten years post-trial and explores what would have happened had Bucky been convicted of his crimes as the Winter Soldier rather than acquitted. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! My thanks also to midnightwings96 for always being a rock for me to lean on when I need ideas or help getting out of a rut, and for being generally awesome and amazing and providing an incredible source of feedback for every last thing I happen to throw at her :) I'm pretty excited so I'll shut up about this now and cross my fingers and hope for the best! I LOVE YOU ALL and I'll see you guys next week! :D **

Ten years, three months, twelve days.

 _Ten years, three months, twelve days._

 _Ten years, three month, twelve days._

 _Ten years, three months, twelve d_ -

Familiar metal screeching broke Bucky's train of thought but didn't prompt him to open his eyes. He stayed right where he was and didn't move. Even if he had wanted to move he wouldn't have been able to, at least not not enough to be worth the damn effort.

"Visitor," a gruff voice barked.

That made Bucky open his eyes. He hadn't been expecting anyone today. "Who?" He asked as the usual team of 8 men surrounded his cell, two of them freeing him from the chair that he spent most of his days confined to. The chair's left arm restraint sent an electric pulse through the metal limb, leaving it useless and dead until they would free him from it. He was freed only for bathroom breaks and visitors. At night they'd move him to his little cot, where another identical restraint awaited him.

The guards ignored his question, as per usual. They weren't allowed to talk to him save for absolutely necessary things, like announcing meals or yelling at him for taking too long in the one shower he was allowed per week. "Too long" was more than two minutes. He needed at least double that time just to wash his massively overgrown hair, so he rarely ever got to.

The guards dragged him out of his cell and down a familiar hallway, the same one he saw all of his visitors in. Steve came every week, Natasha almost as often. Everyone else came by about once a month or so, as often as they could manage. He understood. The trip to the Raft was a time consuming pain in the ass. He assumed so, anyway.

He had been in prison for ten years, three months, and twelve days. The day after the verdict came down, declaring him guilty of twelve counts of first degree murder, he had kissed his wife and children goodbye and boarded a jet that took him to a helicopter that took him here, to the Raft. It was an ultra-maximum security prison at sea, reserved for the most dangerous criminals on earth. He was apparently the worst of the worst. He got the most secure and most solitary cell in the entire structure.

Summer, David, and Adelaide had then disappeared, just like he'd asked them to. They went to Natasha's safe house in Central Florida and started over without him. Summer had their third child in a hospital not far from the beach, holding Steve and Natasha's hands during the labor and delivery instead of Bucky's.

He hadn't seen Summer or any of the kids in ten years, three months, and twelve days. He was never going to see them again. He accepted that. Knowing they were safe and alive was the only thing in the whole world that gave him some semblance of peace.

When the guards took him inside the interview room, he looked up through the curtain that his long, unkempt hair created around his face and saw a woman he'd never met before. Blonde, 40s, glasses, smart business suit. Looked like a lawyer, but he was sure she was something else.

She smiled at him when their eyes met. It made his stomach tie into an uneasy knot.

After he got shoved down into a chair and his arms were shackled again, Bucky looked up at the mystery woman through the bulletproof glass separating them. Before the guards retreated to wait by the door, he asked in a voice hoarse from disuse, "Who are you?"

"I'm Agent Amy Pearce, and I'm with the CIA," she replied straightforwardly, not missing the way that he visibly flinched at the sound of her last name. She held up her ID badge and pressed it to the glass. "Pearce with an EA, not IE. _That_ Pierce died before I was even recruited. You're safe."

He doubted that. "What do you want?"

"Your help," she replied simply.

"I've already given the Feds everything I can remember," he shrugged. "I can't help you."

She looked him over, nodding in agreement. "Not in that cell, you can't."

He furrowed his brows. She reached down, next to her legs and then produced a document that she then held up to show him. He read over it quickly, feeling his heart stutter when he read the words _presidential pardon_.

He narrowed his eyes and growled, "Is this a fucking trick?"

"It's real. Just received this via fax an hour ago. Didn't know anyone even used fax anymore, let alone the White House," she chuckled, laying the document down. "It's your ticket home, Mr. Barnes."

"I don't believe you," Bucky muttered, refusing to give himself false hope. "If that was real, Steve would be here with you. He'd be here to convince me it's real."

"Steve Rogers? He doesn't know about this," she replied. "None of the Avengers do. Mr. Barnes, I work for a top secret division of the CIA that the public doesn't know exists. But we do. We answer to a Congressional committee and submit to full governmental oversight. But our operations are classified at the highest level due to the... nature of what we specialize in."

"Which is?"

"Assassinations," she replied bluntly. "Destabilization. Regime changing. Whatever it takes to secure our interests both at home and abroad. And every mission is personally approved by the President herself."

"Herself?" Bucky asked, genuinely surprised.

"Do they not let you have newspapers in here?" Amy asked, lips turning up in slight amusement.

Bucky sighed and decided he didn't care who the damn president was. "So let me guess," he said wearily. "You're recruiting me to kill people for you."

"Well, that's certainly a crude way of putting it. But essentially, yes."

He shook his head. "I don't do that anymore. I _won't_ do that anymore. I don't care what you put in front of me."

Amy then slid something else across the table. "Even this?"

Bucky looked down and felt his heart drop into his stomach. He was looking at a picture of two little girls, just two years or so apart in age. One was brunette, 12 years old, dressed for ballet class. The other was 10 with a head full of ginger curls, carrying an armful of art supplies. They were walking to a car parked on the side of the street, being led there by a tall, black haired woman with a pair of keys in her hand and a smile on her face, her eyes as blue as he remembered them in his dreams.

His family. The love of his life. His two little girls, the youngest of which he had never even met.

"Are you following them?" he asked, his voice a murderous growl.

"No," Amy shook her head. "Not actively. That photo was taken a few weeks ago, for the sole purpose of showing you the real reason why you would be signing this pardon and coming to work with us."

His blood was boiling. Nobody was supposed to know where they were or even who they were. They were supposed to be safe. " _You people leave them the fuck alone_."

She held up her hands innocently. "We have. I can show you the logs and confirm that. We have no interest in tracking them. You are what we're interested in."

Bucky took a moment to calm down, to breathe and stop seeing red long enough to give a coherent reply. "I promised myself I'd never kill for anyone again."

"And in a perfect world, you could keep that promise," she replied. "But Mr. Barnes, I can assure you that an opportunity like this isn't going to come around twice. This is a once in a lifetime chance for you to leave this hellhole for good and be reunited with your family permanently. You would lead our most elite team. You would call the shots. Your orders would come directly from the President. And for the most part, you would be killing terrorists and people who are our _enemies_ and the furthest thing from innocent. You would only lead one mission a month, which typically takes a week max to complete. The rest of the time you would be at home, tucking in your kids every night, like any other father."

Bucky stared at the woman, cold and calculating on the surface but utterly falling apart inside. This agent was offering him the thing he wanted most in the world alongside the thing he dreaded most in the world - having his freedom and his family back, and killing for another shadowy, nameless, faceless organization that could prove to be every bit as corrupt and hellish as HYDRA.

He had never felt more torn in his life. He couldn't fathom killing again, couldn't even imagine enduring it all over again, the act of cold-blooded killing followed by simply going home and washing his hands and moving on with his own life after taking someone else's. He would rather put a bullet in his own head than become a killing machine again.

But then he looked down at the picture laying before him, right next to the pardon, and he felt his resolve shatter into a thousand pieces. He missed Summer so much it brought him real, physical pain in his chest when he thought about her. Sometimes he could hardly remember he details of her face, how she sounded when she laughed, the way that her skin felt under his fingertips when he touched her. It terrified him when those details threatened to slip away, because his memories were all he had of her. If he lost those, he lost her all over again.

In the picture, he could see her left hand. She still wore his grandmother's ring on her finger, all these years later. She hadn't forgotten him. Steve had said as much, on more than one occasion. _She loves you, Bucky. Won't go out on any dates with anyone. Says as long as you're alive, she's married to you and that's just how it is_.

She was 41 now. David was 21 and in college. Julliard, Steve had mentioned. And the girls were growing like weeds, most of their childhoods long gone by now.

His eyes were blurring with tears swimming behind them. He wanted them back _so badly_. It had been so long. Ten years, three months, and twelve days of hell in this godforsaken place, with nothing to do but count the days since he had first been locked away and repeat them over and over in his head like a mantra.

His sanity was more than questionable as a result of so long in solitary. Sometimes he heard voices, though they were always fleeting and quiet. Sometimes he contemplated causing enough of a headache for the guards that they'd shoot him in self defense and put him out of his misery. Knowing Steve would have to tell Summer and David that he was dead always stopped him from going through with it, but it was sorely tempting.

He needed to get out. He needed to be free. He ached for it in his bones, longed for it in a way that he had never longed for anything else.

"Mr. Barnes," Amy said quietly, her tone full of sympathy and urging. "Don't you want to _go home_?"

He looked her in the eye. He'd made up his mind.

He was going home.

* * *

 _Four months later_

Summer loved writing, she really did. It was her passion in life, her safe haven and her most reliable source of comfort and catharsis for the last ten lonely years. But being a published author had its downsides, and in her case, the primary downside was her agent.

He was cute. He was charming. He was 32. And he had a crush on her.

He had no idea that she was the wife of the Winter Soldier and currently in hiding under the alias of Allison Jones. He knew nothing about her, really, but that didn't stop him from flirting relentlessly during every single phone call and meeting they ever had. She never flirted back, never even gave him the slightest bit of encouragement, but he was incorrigible. She figured he must have had a thing for cougars, which she most certainly was _not_.

She didn't like older men, either. She didn't like tall men or short men or blonde or brunet men. She didn't like any ladies, either. She only liked one person - one man who still had her heart even though she hadn't seen him in what felt like an entire lifetime.

She had written books about him and he didn't even know it. He had no way of knowing it, since he wasn't allowed books at Alcatraz 2.0. But she had. Under a new pen name, she had written a series of romance novels - the good kind, not the trashy kind - about a couple who fell in love only to be ripped apart repeatedly by fate and powers they couldn't control. But they always found their way back to each other, always. That was the name of the series, in fact - _Always_.

There was even chatter about the popular novels possibly being turned into a movie, or even better in Summer's opinion, a Netflix series. That was why she was meeting her agent on this particular warm, sunny summer day, to discuss her options and examine various interested parties and what they had to offer.

And of course, her agent flirted with her the entire time. He even asked her out on a real date at the end of their lunch, and she gently turned him down, giving some half-hearted excuse that she knew _he_ knew was BS, but it wasn't like she could tell him that she refused to betray her imprisoned husband and date other men.

It didn't matter that Bucky had told her prior to the verdict that he wanted her to move on once he was gone and find someone else who could make her happy. She just couldn't do it. The thought of someone else touching her, someone else kissing her, someone else trying to make her feel the way that he had - she simply couldn't do it. She wasn't even tempted to do it, even on her loneliest and most frustrated nights, because she knew that nobody else in the world could make her feel a even fraction of what Bucky had while he had been hers.

So, she left the meeting with her head held high and her promise to herself intact, perfectly content with her decision to turn down the date. She didn't second guess herself, leaving the little cafe and walking to her SUV, slipping on a pair of dark sunglasses to shield her eyes from the unforgiving Florida sun. It was as she was unlocking the vehicle that she felt it - the rush of goosebumps down her neck and the slight shiver that came with it. It was the sensation of being watched, and she had been getting it a _lot_ lately.

She swiveled her head and looked around, but there was nobody looking her way. Everyone on the street and walking along the busy sidewalk was occupied, so she told herself it was all in her head and hopped in her car and closed the door. Maybe she was just extra paranoid lately for some reason. Who knew.

She took off her sunglasses and looked up into the rearview mirror, checking her reflection for a brief moment. Ten years of being a single parent to three kids hadn't been easy, but she had made it and she thought she'd kept her looks pretty well. There were a few lines on her face that hadn't been there before, plus a few gray hairs here and there that she elected to either aggressively ignore or pluck from her head, but her eyes were still bright and she was healthy as a horse. She knew that she had Steve's blood to thank for that, just like she credited Bucky's DNA with the fact that her daughters were 12 and 10 and still had yet to experience the common cold. She didn't get them anymore, either. It was _great_.

Taking a breath, she put the car in drive and eased out on to the road, heading towards a nearby park. David was home from college on summer break, and he had taken his sisters to the park while she'd met with her agent.

David was... absolutely incredible. She couldn't have been more proud of the man that he was turning out to be. Not only was he sweet and kind and compassionate, but he was also amazingly talented and mind-blowingly smart. He was good at math and science and he'd also picked up Summer's flair for words, but music was his passion. He'd earned a full scholarship to Julliard and was well on his way to achieving his dream of being a concert pianist.

He was also 6"2 and her spitting image. He was still quiet and didn't prefer to speak most of the time, but he did when he had to. He had been diagnosed with Asperger's at the age of 16, which was quite the shift from the diagnosis he'd received at the age of 4 of moderate to severe autism, ADD, ADHD, and a few other acronyms she couldn't even remember. Doctors had told her back then that he would always be too much for her and out of control, and that he'd never be able to go to a mainstream school and succeed. But the joke was on them, because _yes_ , he was autistic, but he was also had six years of mainstream schooling under his belt now and he was excelling beautifully.

He was her single best accomplishment, Summer was convinced. If a tree was judged by its fruit, she was pretty sure that her tree was one of the best in the block. And that wasn't even counting Adelaide and Rebecca, both of whom were utterly incredible in their own ways as well.

Adelaide was both a dancer and an athlete, excelling in all things physical as well as math and science in school. She was like her father in that way, and she also looked so much like him that sometimes Summer could hardly look at her without her heart aching and her eyes filling with tears.

Rebecca, meanwhile, was a quiet and artistic little soul. She loved to paint and draw - especially with her Uncle Steve - and she had been writing little stories since she had first learned _how_ to write. Then she and Addie would act out the stories together, and Rebecca would every week go back and forth between wanting to be either a painter, actor, writer, or - naturally - an astronaut. Because _astronauts_. But usually, she settled for either writing or painting, or decided that she'd just do both.

Those three kids were Summer's whole world. They made every sacrifice she'd ever made in her life more than worth it, and they gave her happiness and purpose when she had been lower than ever before. The first few months after losing Bucky to the guilty verdict had been hell on earth, with Summer being pregnant and Addie being just a toddler and David being wracked with anger and depression. She had been a mess, crying every single day and barely functioning until Natasha had come to the rescue and slapped her back into the harsh light of reality.

 _He's gone,_ she had told Summer _. He's not coming back, and I know it's horrible. I know, Summer. I know it hurts. But you can't just stop living now that he's gone. You're a parent - the only parent these kids have. So get off your ass and be a parent to them. Do what Bucky would want you to do._

And that was all the wake up call that Summer had needed. She went out and got a job, got the kids in school, kept the house clean, and internalized as much of her pain as she could. Then, about a year or so after giving birth to Rebecca, she started writing again. Two years after _that_ , she was making enough money from her books to quit her job and work from home.

She knew that Steve saw Bucky every week. He would stop by her house first, taking the Quinjet to Florida and picking up whatever pictures or notes she had that she wanted him to smuggle to Bucky. Bucky couldn't keep the pictures, but he could look at them while Steve was there. It was the only way he could watch his kids grow up, and the only way that Summer could communicate with him.

Every week, they told each other _I love you_ through Steve, save for when he had missions and he missed weeks here and there. Every week, her heart would give a weak flutter and remind her that she was still alive, and so was Bucky, and that as long as they were both breathing, she would always belong to him.

She sniffed back sudden tears and hit the gas when she realized she'd been staring at her steering wheel blankly in front of a green light. The park was right around the corner, and she needed to stop thinking about sad things if she wanted to salvage the rest of her day.

Once she arrived at the park, she found it mostly empty aside from her kids, the three of whom were in the midst of an epic game of hide and seek. David was the one currently hiding, and the girls waved a vague _hello_ to their mother before continuing their very serious seeking of their brother. She smiled and sat down on one of the swings that were in the shade, enjoying the respite from the heat and closing her eyes as she swayed lightly back and forth.

She knew that the girls had found David when she heard delighted squeals of _ha, we found you, sucker!_ Then they demanded that he hide again, and he reluctantly agreed, sprinting off into some nearby trees as they hid their faces and counted.

As the girls counted, David spotted a particularly thick tree and slid behind it, a stubborn smile on his face as he played the silly game with his little sisters. Then he glanced up, his eyes catching a shadow from just behind another tree further up ahead, and when it disappeared just as quickly, he furrowed his brows and let the smile drop off of his face.

Strange men lurking near a park full of kids - especially his sisters - was nothing to take lightly. The game forgotten for now, he pushed off the tree and headed straight for where that shadow had been.

Once he got there, he saw a man's figure retreating from the line of trees. The man had a hat shoved down on his head and a dark blue jacket on, his hands in the pockets of his jeans and his head down. Definitely suspicious.

"Hey!" David called out, even less used to shouting than he was to speaking. But when he had to do it, he had to do it.

The man stopped in his tracks immediately. David walked towards him, ready to tell the guy to get lost or call the cops, but then the man turned around and David nearly dropped to his knees in shock right then and there.

How could it be? Was this even real? Was this really...

"... Dad?"

Back at the playground, the girls couldn't find David anywhere. They were huffing with frustration, and even though Summer told them to stay out of the trees, they went sprinting in there anyway. She sighed and got to her feet, wondering when the day would come that her kids would actually _listen_ to her, but then again, who was she kidding? Stubbornness was in their _blood_.

After chasing them into the treeline and calling out for them to stop more times than she could count, Summer finally caught up to the girls. They were standing next to each other and watching in confusion some yards away as their brother stood locked in a visibly fierce hug with what looked like a random homeless guy. What was happening was lost on them, but as soon as Summer laid eyes on the two men, she felt like someone had punched her directly in the heart.

She couldn't see the man's face due to the angle of it, but she knew that silhouette. She knew that build and that whole _look_ , the baseball hat and the somewhat ratty clothes and the jeans that fit inexplicably well, and most of all she knew the long brown hair spilling on to the man's shoulders.

Or maybe she didn't. Maybe she was going crazy. Maybe was hallucinating all of this.

"Mama," Rebecca asked, cutting through the silence, "who is that?"

That was when he looked up. And the minute his blue eyes connected with her own, it was like the ground underneath her shook and spun as the whole world tilted off its axis.

Her heart thudded erratically in her chest. Her knees went weak. Her hands shook and her vision blurred, not from tears but from a sudden lack of oxygen. Then David pulled away, looking back at his mother with a shocked and watery smile on his face, and that was when she realized that this truly _was_ real and that he was _here_. Bucky was here.

Then she was running as fast as her feet could take her. She smacked into him at a force that would have knocked a non-enhanced man down to the ground, but he held them steady and locked his arms around her, holding her in a grip so tight and so desperate that it hurt but she didn't care, because it was the single best thing that she had felt in ten years.

"Oh my God," she whispered shakily, the tears definitely coming now as she drew back far enough to look at him and touch his face with both hands. " _Oh my God_. It's really you. You're really here."

He leaned into her touch, nodding and staring at her through his own tear-filled eyes. "Yeah," he half-whispered, the first time she had heard his voice in so long. "I'm here."

And then she couldn't help it. She kissed him, hard and desperate and completely unthinking, smashing her lips against his in the most needy kiss of her life. He kissed her back just as desperately, metal hand cradling the back of her head and his right arm locked around her waist, holding her as tightly to him as he could physically manage.

Behind them, Rebecca and Adelaide's jaws both dropped.

"Mama's kissing the creepy homeless guy," Rebecca whispered to her sister.

"... I don't think he's a homeless guy," Adelaide replied, starting to recognize the mystery man from pictures she'd been shown before.

When Summer finally managed to tear her lips away from the bruising kiss, she ran her thumbs over the stubble on his jawline and smiled up at him before asking, " _How_? How are you... what happened? How did you get out? Did Steve break you out?"

"No," he shook his head. "No. I was pardoned."

Her eyes widened. "You were?! How? Oh my God, that's... that means you're free? For good?"

"Yeah," he smiled, and it was one of the best things she had ever seen. "Yeah, I'm free,"

Elation overwhelming her, she couldn't help but let another few tears of joy fall and kiss him again. She was so completely lost in the moment and caught up in having the love of her life come walking out of literally nowhere back into her arms that she was oblivious to the two very confused little girls behind her.

At least she _was_ until she felt a gentle tug on the bottom of her shirt. She and Bucky pulled apart and looked down to find little Rebecca standing there, looking up at the man she didn't know was her father and asking, "Are you homeless and if you are, why are you kissing my mom?"

And suddenly it hit her like a freight train - Bucky had never met Becca before. She looked at him and saw him staring at her like he was in shock, like he had never expected to get to have this moment and now that it was here, he had no idea what to do.

"No, sweetie, this... this isn't a homeless guy," Summer said, reluctantly tearing herself away from him. She looked over to Adelaide, who was watching with what looked like slight fear on her face, and recognition. She didn't remember Bucky from her baby years, but she had seen more pictures than her sister had. She recognized him.

"Um," Summer hesitated, unsure of how exactly to introduce him to his daughters in a way that was gentle and not abrupt. "So... you girls remember the story I told you? The story about how I fell in love and got married, and how the two of you came from that?"

Both girls nodded. Bucky made eye contact with Addie, and she quickly looked down. He tried to ignore the sting of it and remember how much of a shock this was going to be to them, and to not expect anything from them. He was a stranger to them, after all.

"And then I told you how your daddy was taken away from us by some bad men who blamed him for things that happened that he couldn't control, and that was why we had to live here and not ever talk about it to people in school."

Rebecca nodded, then peered up at Bucky and asked, "Are you my daddy?"

Suddenly fighting back more tears, Bucky nodded and forced a broken smile. "Yeah," he said gently. "Yeah, I am."

"Cool," she chirped. "I like painting and drawing. Do you like painting or drawing?"

Bucky smiled and so did Summer. "You know, I've never been that good at either one."

"Maybe I can help you!" she smiled. "It's easy! We can start with flowers. Those are real easy. I drew a bunch of daisies for my history teacher and she still has the picture on the wall behind her desk."

Bucky smiled warmly at the excited little girl, amazed at how she just decided right there on the spot that she would accept him as her father and then just rolled with it. Adelaide clearly wasn't having the same reaction, still standing there and eyeing Bucky warily and also occasionally blinking at her sister like she was nuts.

"Well, let's... let's get home, okay?" Summer said to the girls, nodding to the still-overwhelmed David to go get the car. "We can all talk more once we get home and get settled in."

The girls nodded, following their brother to the car when he motioned for them to follow him. He knew Bucky and Summer needed a minute alone, so he made sure they got it.

Summer turned to face him again, looking him over like she expected him to disappear again at any moment, just evaporate into thin air. "I..." she smiled and shook her head. "I can't believe you're real."

"Honestly," he chuckled lowly, "me either."

"How long have you been out?" she asked, trying to wrap her head around it all.

"... Four months," he replied, and she felt a wave of pain crash over her heart.

"Four months? You've been out four months and you only just now came back?"

He sighed and dropped his head, staring at the ground as he muttered, "It's... it's complicated. The conditions of the pardon were... I had to go somewhere for awhile. Do some... training and some other stuff. And then when I got here, I just... I watched you for awhile. I... it's been so long. I was scared."

" _Scared_?" she repeated in disbelief. "Why?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I knew the girls wouldn't know me. I didn't know if you'd still feel the same or... or if I even should come back."

"How could you think that?" she whispered, aghast at the very thought.

He frowned and opened his mouth to answer only to be interrupted by David pulling the car around. He closed his mouth, nodded when Summer suggested they pick the conversation back up later, and then followed her to the car.

After ten long, miserable, lonely years, they were reunited at last. She finally had him back, and now Bucky got to come home with his family and finally be where he belonged.

But that didn't mean the road ahead would be smooth, as they both soon found out.

* * *

Maybe it had been a bit naive of Summer, but when she brought Bucky home, she had assumed that everything would go back to normal and they would just pick up where they had left off ten years ago. But they didn't, and things _weren't_ normal.

He didn't speak much. He flinched at sudden noises and he was constantly tense, and when she tried to get him to talk, he mostly gave her one-word answers. He scarfed down the dinner that she made in mere minutes, and then he spent most of that first night sitting on the couch and humoring Rebecca as she showed him everything she'd drawn or painted in the last three years.

Adelaide went to her room the minute dinner was over. She seemed almost scared of Bucky and refused to even look at him, and Summer could only imagine how that felt to Bucky. But what could she do? Addie was only 12 and her long lost father had literally shown up out of the blue and was living in her house now, and he was fidgety and nervous and he barely spoke.

It was going to be a big adjustment for all of them, Summer knew, except for Rebecca. She was easygoing in that way, taking whatever life gave her and rolling with it, but Adelaide didn't share her nature.

At night, after the kids had gone to bed, Summer quietly sat down next to Bucky on the couch he was seemingly glued to and offered him a cautious smile. "Well," she sighed, "this could have gone a lot worse, considering this was the biggest shock of the last ten years."

He nodded faintly, looking down at his hands. "Yeah."

"Addie will come around," Summer assured him. "She just needs some time to adjust. She's not nearly as trusting or... relaxed as her sister."

He nodded again, still focused on his hands. Summer glanced down at them as well, one flesh and one metal, wanting to reach out and touch him but hesitating. She didn't want to overwhelm him, or overstep somehow.

So instead, she cleared her throat and tried to ignore how awkward she felt about the next words that would leave her mouth. "So, um... I'm gonna go to bed now, if... you want to come with me."

His eyes finally met hers, but she could see the flickers of pain and regret within them. Then he looked away and shook his head, muttering, "I shouldn't."

"... Why?" she asked softly.

"I'm not..." He paused and clenched his jaw, biting his lip nervously. "I'm not in the best frame of mind right now, Summer."

"Oh," she breathed, nodding understandingly. "Right. I'm sorry, I just... I thought..."

"I want to," he told her, looking her in the eye again, and she knew that he meant it. Like herself, he looked a little older now too. The change wasn't as obvious with him, probably thanks to the serum in his veins, but his time at the Raft had still taken its toll. He had a few streaks of gray in the sides of his long but trimmed hair, and his eyes were visibly more haunted than she remembered.

"I want to," he repeated softly, looking away again, "but I shouldn't. I don't trust myself."

"Okay," she nodded, pretending not to be a little hurt. She wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in her arms or be wrapped up in _his_ arms, safe in the big empty bed in her room and lost in his warmth and his touch. It wasn't even about sex, although _that_ part of her brain was lighting up like a neon sign at his proximity, but it wasn't the most important thing at that moment. She just wanted the closeness and comfort of having him next to her all night long, and she had thought that was what he'd want too.

But she understood, she did. He had been locked in a cell for ten years and hadn't been touched by anyone but nameless, faceless guards in all of that time. He had stared at four blank walls all day every day, rotting in restraints that were strong enough to withstand the Hulk, and he had expected to die there. Now suddenly he was free and in a real home, his wife mere inches away from him, and she couldn't expect him to be ready for any kind of intimacy after what he'd been through.

She would wait for him. She would be patient and not push him, and she'd let him take the lead and let her know when he was ready to graduate from the couch to her bedroom.

She left him there on the couch to find him a few pillows and a blanket, and when she came back, Loki the cat was sniffing at his legs and looking up at him curiously. He'd been outside all day, still the hot stud in the neighborhood despite being up there in years now, and this was his first time acknowledging the new person among them.

But Bucky wasn't new, and Loki remembered him. After identifying his scent, Loki then jumped up into his lap and curled up in a content little ball, purring and eyeing him as if to say _well, what took you so bloody long_?

Summer chuckled and set down the blanket and pillows on the end of couch, watching Bucky tentatively pet the cat. But her smile fell into a frown when Bucky muttered, "Least he remembers me."

Hearing him say things like that made her heart lurch. She knew that he didn't hold a thing against Adelaide for reacting like she had, but at the end of the day, she was his _baby_. She was the only child of theirs he'd ever gotten to know as a baby, and he had been there every day for the first two years of her life. He had spent his time in prison missing her, remembering her adorable little laugh and the way that she giggled and called him _dada_ , and now she was almost a teenager and he was nothing to her.

It hurt. Summer hurt _for_ him. But she had faith that in time, everything would calm down and be as it should. If fate could do something as impossible and beautiful as bring them back together, then everything else could fall in line as well.

She bade him a quiet goodnight and left him there on the couch, Loki keeping him company, and then she went to bed alone. And as much as she wished that he would change his mind and come crawling into her bed to hold her until morning came, she still slept easier than she had in years, just knowing that he was _there_ and safe and free.

Bucky, however, didn't sleep. He laid there wide awake on the couch, hyperaware of everything around him, every shift in the house, every click of the refrigerator, every breath the cat on his lap took. It made him jittery and uneasy, the knots in his stomach twisting and turning until he finally passed out from exhaustion around 4 AM, only to awaken from a nightmare at 6 AM.

He hoped Summer was right, and that time would fix everything. But he wasn't so sure.

* * *

Over the next few days, a tentative routine was formed, and Summer deducted after a few more slightly strained conversations that the conditions Bucky had agreed to in exchange for the pardon were disturbingly and frighteningly shady.

He refused to go into detail with her, but she pieced together that he had gained his freedom in exchange for pledging his service to a very questionable sounding department within the Central Intelligence Agency. That was where he had been the first few months following his release, training and working to get back into fighting form following ten years of sitting in a cell with zero exercise and a paltry two meals a day. Then he had completed his first mission for them, and only then did they give him the green light to go to Florida.

She worried for what the hell Bucky had gotten himself into, and more than anything she worried what it would do to him to kill in the service of another dubious governmental organization. Mainly, though, it spoke to how desperate for freedom he had been to agree to such a thing in the first place. But she couldn't blame him. If the roles were reversed, she would have taken the deal as well.

But she chose to think about that as little as possible. Instead, she did her best to help Adelaide warm up to Bucky and, in the same vein, kept Rebecca from crowding his space too much. They were at opposite ends of the same spectrum, one child who didn't want to be in the same room as him and another who wanted to be stuck to his side and clinging there all day long.

Then there was David, who was as happy as Summer was to have him back. He showed off how far his piano skills had gotten, and Summer embarrassed him by telling Bucky all about his new girlfriend. The little deaf girl he'd once protected with a tiny toy shield at Avengers Tower during an attack was now also all grown up and, as fate would have it, was studying dance at Julliard. They had recognized each other across campus one day, and they could hardly believe the odds of such a thing happening. Then she asked him out on a date, being infinitely more brave than he was in that area, and that had been a year ago.

The story brought a wide grin to Bucky's face. He high-fived his son, then froze in horror when little Becca tried to outdo her brother's story by announcing, "Well, there's a boy at school named Liam and we kiss all the time!"

After Summer recovered from the roughly ten thousand heart attacks that followed that declaration, she interrogated poor little Rebecca and determined that there had only actually been one kiss and it had happened due to a dare during recess. Upon further questioning, she admitted that she and the boy had both then been severely grossed out and swore off kissing anyone for the rest of their lives.

Bucky visibly deflated, and Summer let out a deeply relieved breath.

 _Kids, man_.

During that first week, Adelaide spent five out of seven nights sleeping over at her best friend from school's house. Summer didn't want to push it so she let her, though she hated the look that would pass across Bucky's face when he'd watch her leave. It just _sucked_ , but Summer didn't know a single thing she could do to help.

And in the midst of all of this, controlling her overwhelming urges to be close to Bucky and touch him and kiss him became more difficult with each passing day. By the end of that first week she was a wreck, nearly shaking with need every time he'd walk past her and his familiar scent would fill her nose, or when she'd sit close enough to him on the couch to feel his warmth pouring from his skin but not close enough to touch him. She _needed_ to be close to him, needed something - _anything_ \- just to take the edge off, so late one night the week after he arrived, she came up with an idea.

With the rest of the house sleeping and Bucky haphazardly making his "bed" on the couch, Summer quietly approached him from behind and asked, "So... any chance you might want a haircut?"

He turned, surprised, and hesitated as he ran a hand through his long hair. "Oh. Uh..."

"Only if you want to," she assured him. "No pressure or anything. I like your long hair," she added with a smile. "But it just seems like it gets on your nerves, so..."

He nodded, seeming to think for a moment before he gave his answer. "Yeah. Okay."

"Yeah?" she smiled. After he nodded, mirroring her own smile just barely, she ran off to get set up in the kitchen.

It was just like old times, she mused when he walked in the kitchen and briefly locked eyes with her before shedding his shirt and taking a seat in front of her, facing away from her. She took a deep breath to steady herself so that she wouldn't just pounce on him and forget all about his hair, reminding herself that he wasn't ready for _that_ yet.

She was, though. _Good Lord in Heaven_ , was she ready.

Putting those thoughts on the backburner, however, Summer picked up her handy dandy hair cutting scissors and got to work. She snipped and cut and textured his hair in a comfortable silence, finding more gray hairs here and there the deeper she delved. She didn't mind it at all, however. In fact, the little wisps of gray at his sides made her crave contact even more. He wore it well. And she was hopeless.

She worked her way to the front of his hair, as usual, using the clippers to make it very short on the bottom but leaving plenty to work with on the top. Short but not too short, like he had always preferred it before. And once she was putting on the finishing touches, moving to stand directly in front of him, he opened his legs in a silent invitation for her to stand between them. She took it without hesitation.

That was when the air began to change, and she could feel it. Her heart rate picked up when she felt his eyes on her, trailing up and down every inch of her body before finally landing on her face. She caught his gaze, her stomach flipping when their eyes connected. There was something familiar in his eyes, not heat or desire exactly, but... _want._ He _wanted_ , and _God_ , how she wanted too.

Somehow, she managed to refocus back on his hair and finish it up. Once she was satisfied that everything was even, she fluffed the top with her fingers a little and smiled, "All done." Then she set aside her tools and lingered where she was for a moment, unsure if she should make a move or give him space or wait to see what he wanted.

After a moment spend in limbo, neither of them doing anything, she decided to give him his space back. But while she was still in mid-step, suddenly his hands reached out and gently seized her hips, followed by a quietly muffled but somehow still desperate, "Don't go."

Her heart suddenly slamming in her chest and mind _singing_ with joy, she smiled and nodded immediately. "Okay."

He let out a breath and flexed his fingers on her hips, a mildly confused expression falling on his face as if now that he had her, he wasn't sure what to do with her. Summer gently slid her hands on his shoulders, no more long hair left to graze them or obstruct his pretty face from her view, and she loved how he looked like this. She just hated the crease between his knit brows and that unsure glint in his eye.

But then he drew in a breath and closed his eyes. The next thing she knew, the side of his face was pressed to her belly and he was hugging her, his eyes closed and tension leaving his shoulders beneath her very fingertips.

She suddenly felt tears stinging her eyes. Sucking in a somewhat shuddering breath, she brought one hand to his hair, holding his head against her, while her other hand ran smoothly up and down his back. Just those small, simple touches were enough to make her head spin, so touch-starved and desperate for him that it felt like the best thing in the world, just hugging him like that.

Then he drew his head back and looked up at her, something in his eyes quietly pleading for something he couldn't put words to. She simply acted on instinct, shifting and sliding down to sit sideways on his lap, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his neck as she held him tight.

He embraced her back with an almost bruising grip, and they stayed like that for an indefinite amount of time. They didn't say a word or hardly move a muscle, both of them just soaking each other up and the comfort they were drawing from holding one another. Neither one of them ever wanted to let go.

But eventually, after a _long_ time, it wasn't quite enough anymore. He lifted his head a little bit, nuzzling her hair and inhaling its scent, and her entire body tingled from the groan that he let out against her ear.

"Your hair still smells the same," he marveled, hot breath washing over her ear and making her feel like she was suddenly on fire. " _Fifteen fucking years_ and it still smells the same."

She shivered and lifted up her own head, meeting his gaze and feeling a blush flooding her cheeks. She closed her eyes when he rested his forehead against hers and let his hands start wandering, first up and down her sides, then her hips and her legs through her thin pajama pants, then up her camisole-clad back. "Still feel the same," he murmured, his own voice a little shaky due to the way that her fingers were softly, silently exploring the familiar planes of his chest.

"You too," she said, sharing his breaths and wanting nothing more than to kiss him until they were both starving for air.

Now his fingers were in her hair, running through the long dark locks just to feel them on his skin, and his metal hand was curled around her hip. "I almost forgot how you felt," he confessed, eyes shut tight. "I almost forgot everything."

She shook her head and brought her hand to the back of his head, pulling him almost close enough to make their lips touch. "I'm here now."

"I'm scared," he admitted, his hand curling into a fist in her hair. "Keep expecting you to disappear and all of this to not be real."

"It's real," she replied, desperate to comfort him. "It's real, I promise."

But he could still hardly open his eyes, looking almost like he was in pain, and she couldn't stand it anymore. She let go of her restraint and pressed her lips to his, just wanting to make him feel better and prove to him how very real she was.

He drank up her kiss like a man dying of thirst. He kissed her back with a feverish, painfully desperate passion, his hands on her body tightening as he poured ten years' worth of longing and want into the kiss. It was almost too much for Summer to handle, the raw emotion driving it leaving her feeling entirely too much at once, like a storm was raging and she was right in the middle of it.

She was sure that neither one of them had ever been quite this mindlessly desperate. The kiss dragged on and on, neither of them able to get enough, their hands moving anywhere and everywhere and all of it happening entirely too quickly, but they were helpless to stop it.

She moaned into his mouth when his right hand left her hair and trailed down her shoulder, sliding over her breast and giving it a gentle but tight squeeze that felt like lightning shooting through her entire body. It was that touch that changed it all and cleared her head, reminding her that they were sitting at the kitchen table and any one of the kids could get up and wander out to the kitchen for a drink or snack at any minute. And even more importantly, she knew that Bucky wasn't ready for where this was going. He might want it and need it as badly as she did, but this... this just wasn't the right time or place for this to happen.

She broke the kiss, gently putting some distance between them even though it nearly killed her. They breathes heavily in the space between them, and she decided to take a chance and ask, "Want to come and stay in my room tonight?"

The minute she saw conflict and indecision flash through his eyes, she knew even more that it wasn't the right time for this. When they were truly intimate for the first time in so long, she didn't want there to be a flicker of a shadow of a doubt anywhere in his being. Until then, she would keep giving him the space he needed.

"It's okay," she assured him, dropping one more feather light kiss on his lips. "I understand. I can wait."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pulling her close and burying his face in her neck. "I'm so sorry. _Fuck_."

"It's okay," she assured him, happy to just be in his arms and be this close to him again. "I love you."

It was the first time she had said those words since he hand come back. He paused and exhaled raggedly before telling her he loved her too, and she closed her eyes and sank even deeper into his embrace.

One day at a time, she told herself. One day at a time, and eventually, they would get there. She knew they would.

* * *

A few weeks passed, and things started to settle a little bit, at least in some areas.

Steve, Natasha, Wanda, Sam, and Tony all came by for visits. Summer would have thrown a party and made a big fuss out of Bucky's return if he wouldn't have been so vehemently opposed to it, but as it was, she made do with the visits and felt her spirits lift further and further with each new visit from the folks whom they had once lived with at the tower back in New York. They were all highly concerned with the deal that Bucky had taken in exchange for his freedom, but it made Summer feel a little better to know that they were aware of it and that Steve was personally investigating them.

Meanwhile, Bucky still insisted on sleeping on the couch. Some nights when Summer couldn't sleep, she would hear the telltale sounds of his nightmares and would force herself to sit on her hands and not go to him and wake him. He swore that he wasn't as stable as he once was, and that if she tried anything of the sort, he might lash out unconsciously and badly harm her. She just wished that he would come in and sleep with her, but he was breathtakingly stubborn and afraid of himself.

In addition, despite her highest hopes, their little encounter in the kitchen didn't spawn any similar ones. Sometimes he would initiate small touches and she took advantage of his willingness to allow hugs on a regular basis now, but kisses were rare and she had to actively fight to control herself and follow his pace. As starved for affection as he was, he couldn't seem to handle much of it before he would become almost overstimulated and have to retreat back within himself.

She assumed that it was a side effect of spending such a long time locked away and deprived of all human physical contact, maybe also a side effect of spending so long stewing in self-hatred and repetitive, intrusive, abusive thoughts rattling around his brain with no outlet.

But he was trying, he really was, and she could see that more and more every day. He was trying to be present, trying to be the man David remembered and one that Rebecca could grow to love, while also trying to quietly win Adelaide over. He wasn't especially successful on that last front, but he was trying his very best. It was all he could do.

Then, just before the one month anniversary of Bucky's homecoming arrived, Summer awoke one morning to find him dressed and ready to leave, one single bag slung over his shoulder. Her blood suddenly ran cold, and she understood where he was going without him having to say a word.

He had a mission.

She didn't know what to say or do, so she did the first thing that came to mind and didn't let herself second guess it. She pulled him into a brief but warm hug, and when they began to draw apart, she placed a small, lingering kiss on his lips.

Then, her forehead pressed to his, she told him quietly, "Be safe. Come home when you're done."

He nodded. "I will. I promise."

Then, as her heart broke for him all over again, she watched him walk out the door, headed God knows where to do God knows what.

He had once told her, a long time ago, that he would kill for her. She hadn't quite imagined that those words would come true in this way.

It made her feel sick in more ways than she could count. He was sacrificing so much just to be with her and the kids again, compromising himself and doing the kind of work that he swore he'd never do again, and it brought the most bittersweet of tastes to her mouth to think that _this_ was the only way that she could have him back.

She could only hope that his targets were genuinely bad people, terrorists and murderers who deserved getting the world's most prolific assassin sent to put a bullet in their skulls.

Even if they were, it was little consolation. He shouldn't have to do it. He'd served his country already, given his life in a war long past, and spent 70 years as the world's longest serving and most tortured POW. But the blood-sucking parasites in power were never satisfied.

 _God_ , how she hated them.

* * *

Bucky was gone for a total of four days. On the second night, Summer sat down next to Adelaide on her bed just before bedtime and decided that it was time to have a talk with her.

"Sweetie," she began gently, choosing her words carefully, "we need to talk about your dad."

Adelaide visibly clammed up and crossed her arms, glaring off into space. "I don't want to."

"Look," Summer sighed, "I know it's been a big shock to have him suddenly show up out of the blue, and I know it's been an adjustment for all of us. He's a stranger to you, and I don't expect you to just... suddenly care about him. But Addie, he loves you more than you can ever imagine, and when you ignore him and pretend like he's not even there, it hurts his feelings."

"Do you think I'm an idiot, Mom?" Adelaide suddenly snapped, taking Summer by surprise. "I know who he is. I know what he's done. And I don't want anything to do with him."

 _That_ was about the last thing that Summer had expected to hear fly from her daughter's mouth. "... What are you talking about?"

"I go to school," Adelaide said, attitude cranked to 100% and rising. "I take U.S. history. Last year my teacher spent an entire hour talking to us about the Winter Soldier and everything he did."

 _Oh God_. This was worse than Summer could have imagined. "Addie, that's not -"

"He killed JFK," Adelaide interrupted. "He killed _kids_. And he got caught and put on trial and went to prison for all those crimes. I grew up thinking my dad was this awesome heroic guy, and then I went to school and opened my history book and saw his face above a list of good people he killed. You lied to me. He's not a good guy. He's a psycho."

"Addie, no, my God," Summer groaned, inwardly panicking. "He's -"

"My teacher stood there telling us all how the day he went to prison should be a holiday like Memorial Day," Addie went on. "Do you have any idea how that felt to hear all of that? You made him sound so good my whole life, and then I found out the truth from a _teacher_."

"Addie -"

"And you know what else? I -"

" _Adelaide_ ," Summer snapped, sliding effortlessly into scary-mom voice. " _be quiet and listen to me._ "

Adelaide huffed and clenched her jaw - looking so much like her father when she did - but she shut up as Summer had demanded.

"Your teacher is full of crap," Summer said. "Yes, your father killed a lot of people. Yes, he was the Winter Soldier. But he was brainwashed. He didn't have a choice. He was tortured and forced into every single bad thing he did."

"So? He's still a killer," Adelaide shrugged. "He went to prison for it."

"I know. I was there," Summer replied. "And so were you, even though you don't remember it. You adored him. You cried for him for weeks when they sent him away. You could barely talk and yet you were always asking me when he was gonna come home."

"I was just a stupid baby," Adelaide argued. "I didn't know any better."

Summer took a deep, calming breath, and reminded herself that this little girl was only 12 and very confused and required a lot of patience at the moment. She also needed a heavy dose of the truth, so that was what Summer gave her.

She told Addie Bucky's entire life story, from his childhood in Brooklyn to when war took him overseas and everything that came after. She told the story of how Bucky, during his time with the Howling Commandos, had personally rescued her grandmother from a Polish concentration camp and thus was the reason why their family had survived and why any of them were alive today. She also told Adelaide how the Soviets had tortured him, about the chair that shocked and fried his brain until his memories and entire sense of self evaporated, and the words that could trigger him into being a killing machine. She told Addie all of it in great detail, sparing nothing. She was old enough to know all of it now.

Then she told her the story of how she and Bucky had met and eventually fallen in love. She told her how she herself had been wary at first before she saw the truth of him and how entirely and wholly broken and _innocent_ he was. She told Addie how she became his friend first, how she cared for him and fed him and clothed him, and how everything else had just come naturally the more she got to know him and the more he rediscovered himself.

She didn't sugarcoat anything. She showed Addie the small scar on her forehead that had come as a result of Bucky being "reset" by a code word that had reverted him back into a mindless killing machine until Wanda had forced her way into his mind and brought him back. A full hour passed where Summer talked and Adelaide just sat and listened, and then once that hour had passed, Summer briefly left the room and came back with a photo album in her hands.

"I've seen all those before," Adelaide muttered when Summer settled back into the small bed at her side.

"I know," Summer replied, "but this time I want you to really _look_ at them. And look at your dad and see how happy you made him when you were born."

Adelaide stifled a sigh but gave in anyway, watching as Summer flipped through the pages and explained each photo.

"This," she said as she pointed to a picture of Bucky holding little tiny newborn Addie in the birthing center suite Summer labored in, "is the first time he ever held you. He was scared to do it at first because you were so little and he thought he'd accidentally break you, but... I told him he'd do fine and that you were tougher than you looked. You were a pretty big baby, but his arms just swallowed you up, as you can see."

Bucky was absolutely glowing with pride and joy in the picture. Smiling straight at the camera and cradling his new little daughter with the utmost care, there wasn't a trace of the Winter Soldier anywhere in his eyes. He was just a man, one who had just fallen in love with a tiny little creature who already had him wrapped around her finger, and she hadn't even been in the world for a full hour yet.

"He's been through more than any of us could ever imagine," Summer said, watching Adelaide as she stared at the picture. "He'll never be _normal_ or like other men. He's seen too much and done too much, and too much has been done _to_ him. He's paying a heavy price just to be here with us at all. But he's the bravest man I've ever known, and I know some pretty brave guys. He's _good_ down to his core, and sweet and caring and... protective and... Addie, I can promise you that he loves you and your brother and sister more than anything in the world."

Adelaide frowned, still staring at the picture. "But I don't know him. And he's not what I thought he was my whole life."

Summer exhaled quietly, putting an arm around her daughter and telling her, "Just give him a chance, sweetie. You've got nothing to lose. Just... talk to him sometimes. Maybe... ask him to tell you stories about when you were a baby. He remembers everything. Probably remembers some things I don't."

Adelaide groaned but relented, "Fine. I know you're not gonna give me a choice anyway."

Summer chuckled. "No, I'm not. And you'll thank me for that someday. Look at your sister - she already adores him."

Addie rolled her eyes. "She's too nice for her own good."

"Maybe," Summer mused. "But she won't regret it in this case."

Adelaide looked up then, studying her mother's face for a moment before noting, "You really love him."

"Yeah," Summer smiled, feeling her eyes fill helplessly with tears. "He's... he's been _it_ for me since the first time I kissed him."

Adelaide wrinkled her nose. "Ew."

Summer laughed quietly and pulled Adelaide closer, hugging her to her side. "Well, kiddo, how do you think you got here in the first place?"

"Disgusting, horrible things," Adelaide shuddered, recalling how she had discovered the truth of how babies were made by watching a particularly graphic show on Animal Planet at the age of 10 and then realizing with horror how human babies were also made.

"Yeah, but those disgusting horrible things are why I have you and your sister," Summer said, patting her shoulder. "And I don't know what I'd do without you."

Adelaide laid her head on Summer's shoulder and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I love you too, Mom."

"I love you more," Summer smiled back, hoping that the conversation had been as much of a success as she thought it had been. With any luck and with more time, maybe everything would work out and Adelaide and Bucky could start over from the beginning and form a real, lasting bond.

If they didn't, Summer didn't know _what_ she would do. But she had faith that she'd never have to find out.

* * *

When Bucky came home from that first mission, it was in the middle of the night and everyone was fast asleep, even Loki the cat. Bucky made no noise as he stepped inside, dropping his bag next to the couch after he made his way to the living room.

He stood there for a moment, looking around the house and silently fighting a war in his head that he was losing. The mission had been simple, his target a drug lord based out of Bulgaria with ties to human trafficking and terrorism across the globe. He deserved the two bullets Bucky lodged into his brain, but that didn't calm the storm raging within or provide any real sense of comfort.

Someone would take his place. Someone always did. Maybe Bucky would be sent to kill that poor bastard too, and it would be a never ending cycle of bloodshed that would probably never do a damn thing to change the world or make anything better one way or the other.

He sat down on the couch and dropped his head into his suddenly shaky hands. He _hated_ this. He hated not being able to say no. He hated taking orders from these strangers who could be HYDRA sympathizers for all he knew. He hated the fact that his freedom came with blood-soaked strings attached, as if the only way to stay free was to offer up monthly human sacrifices to the political machine in Washington.

He needed to stop this train of thought in its tracks, or else he was in for an even worse night than the one he knew was inevitable. He tried to shush the noise in his brain and calm his breathing, force himself into a peaceful state, but it was a losing battle. He couldn't do it. He needed something. He needed -

He knew what he needed. He dropped his hands and let his eyes drift towards the nearby hallway, blowing out a deep breath and getting to his feet.

* * *

Summer was in a rare deep sleep. It was due to the prior three nights of little to no sleep that she'd gotten, unable to find rest while she didn't know where Bucky was and if he was okay. But tonight she had been just exhausted enough to pass out and finally get some sleep, and that was why she didn't hear her door open and then softy close.

She only woke up once she felt the bed shifting behind her, and a warm arm snaking along her waist as an even warmer body pressed into hers from behind.

Eyes opening and fluttering rapidly, wondering if this was some kind of dream, Summer murmured, "Bucky...?"

"Sorry," he murmured, his breath warm on the back of her neck. "Didn't mean to wake you."

Her heart backflipped in her chest. He was home. He came home, and after an entire month of sleeping on the couch, he was finally in her bed and he was holding her, just like he had always use to before.

"It's okay," she smiled, turning just enough in his arms to be able to look at his face. But her smile quickly faded when she saw the haunted look in his eyes and the pain etched on his face. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head, clenching his jaw. "No."

She then moved purely out of instinct, her body shifting and changing their positions without him needing to ask or her even having to think about it. She turned fully on her back and pulled him close, letting him curl up to her almost like a child and lay his head on her chest, arms and legs wrapped around her like a lifeline and his ear pressed directly to her heartbeat. She held him close, running soothing fingers through his hair and telling him that everything would be okay, that he was safe, that he wasn't alone anymore, and that she loved him. She repeated those words until she felt his breathing grow more even, and then to her surprise and relief, after about fifteen minutes, the sound of soft snoring wafted up to her ears and made her smile.

She fell asleep soon after, her own sense of peace and safety returning now that he was back and in her arms. She knew he might retreat again in the morning and this might be an isolated incident, but she would cherish it all the same.

They both slept better that night than they had in months.

* * *

To Summer's relief and surprise, Bucky never slept on the couch again following that night. He came in and slept with her every night from then on, usually quietly slipping in beside her an hour or two after she had gone to bed, and it was like another piece of the puzzle finally falling into place.

He would usually wake up before her and slip away while she still slept, but she didn't mind. She slept wonderfully with his arms wrapped around her, or hers wrapped around his, depending on who needed it the most any given night.

During the days, he started opening up and speaking a little more. Adelaide stopped acting so icy towards him, and now when he asked her questions like what her favorite subject in school was, she'd answer him instead of picking up her phone and retreating to her room to go and text her friends in solitude. Rebecca even managed to get both Bucky and Addie to play a game with her together - Monopoly - and that resulted in a solid two and a half hours of peaceful interaction between the three. Summer wanted to throw on a top hat and dance a jig in celebration.

Then, one day about a week following the completion of Bucky's last mission, Summer was gathering up all the laundry around the house when she found a crumpled up check hiding amongst Bucky's discarded clothes. She picked it up and promptly had a heart attack.

He was getting paid a million dollars for each completed mission. He had two under his belt now, which meant that he was richer than he'd ever been in his life. Or at least he would be, but he didn't seem to want to even acknowledge the money or put it in the damn bank.

She had to go lie down for a bit following that particular discovery. The CIA paid better than HYDRA had, at least.

She kept the knowledge of his pay to herself and continued on with life as usual. Bucky took to doing the dishes for her after dinner - which automatically raised his standing in Adelaide's eyes, since that had been her job - and with each passing day, things were slowly getting less tense and more comfortable. It wasn't perfect, but Bucky was slowly finding his place within the home and some days, he even smiled here and there without it looking forced.

He also started reading Summer's newer book series. She was more than a little nervous to let him read them, since he himself was such a prominent figure within them, just under a different name, but she only fidgeted for a moment before handing them over and casually mentioning that they might be getting turned into a movie soon.

He looked so proud of her in that moment that it made her heart melt into a big pile of useless goo.

He plowed through the first book in a little more than a day. When he got to the second one - her personal favorite, and also the more... _mature_ one of the series - he stayed up until 2 AM sitting on the couch, devouring it with a single-minded focus that gave Summer a little flicker of pride. He had always loved her writing, but she thought she was much better now than she had been back then.

That night, after finishing 3/4 of the book and closing it with a thud after reading one particularly heart-racing scene - not the kind that involved car chases or guns - Bucky dropped it down on a corner table and tried to catch his breath. His blood was pumping and his hands were shaking, but not from anxiety or anything unpleasant. He only hesitated a moment before getting up and heading to her bedroom, slipping inside and closing the door - then twisting the lock.

Summer was still awake, and she didn't miss the distinct sound of the lock clicking into place. Just that sound alone set her nerves on fire, and when Bucky gently crawled into bed next to her and curled his arm around her waist, a shiver ran down her spine and she could already feel her pulse pounding in her ears.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder, next to the strap of her thin tank top, and she erupted with goosebumps. "Your writing's even better than I remember."

She smiled and closed her eyes, trying to curl herself back into him, but he wouldn't quite let her for some reason. "Thanks."

"Especially the sex scenes."

She blushed, grateful that he couldn't see the current shade of her face. "Well, I... I had a lot of good memories to draw on."

He dragged his lips up and down the back of her neck slowly, not kissing, just feeling, and her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head. "Is that all? Just... just memories?"

She understood what he was asking without saying the words, and she didn't hold it against him one bit. "Just memories, Bucky. I never even kissed anyone while you were gone. There was nobody."

His fingertips slid under the hem of her top, just dancing softly along the smooth skin of her belly. "I didn't want you to do that. I wanted you to be happy."

She closed her eyes again as he kissed between her neck and shoulder, breathlessly replying, " _You_ make me happy."

Then she turned her head just enough to face him, their lips just a breath away as he gazed down upon her. With their eyes locked, he suddenly and _finally_ pulled her body tightly against his, and she couldn't help the breathless little gasp that flew out of her mouth. He was incredibly, _painfully_ hard.

His voice was strained and tight with need as he murmured, "Can I..."

She nodded, licking her lips and telling him, "Anything, Bucky. Anything you want."

He groaned faintly and then his lips were on hers, soft and gentle but desperate and needy. She brought her hand to his short hair, holding his head close and kissing him back with a passion that she couldn't restrain. They were alone and locked away from the rest of the world, and they both needed this so badly that she knew nothing was gonna get in their way this time.

His tongue was playing with hers and making her head spin with achingly familiar heat as his hand inched further up her shirt, feeling every inch of her skin and making her crave more, for anything he would give her. He broke the kiss with a soft gasp when she pushed back against him, encouraging him to roll his hips, and then he did and his eyes slid shut at the simple, sweet pleasure. He slowly fell into a rhythm, his hand finding her breast and making her entire body twitch with desire as thumbed a nipple and groaned at the feel of her.

This, she thought, was perhaps perfect for what he could handle at the moment. She was more than happy to give it to him, pulling him back down for another kiss and rolling back against him in a way that made him moan into her mouth.

" _God_ ," he breathed when he broke away for air, brows furrowed and face flushed and limbs trembling. He was already so close, barely needing anything to get there, but he wasn't so far out of his mind to forget about her. He gave her breast one last squeeze and then trailed his hand down, sliding his fingers down the front of the thin little shorts she had on and groaning at what he found. " _So fucking wet._ "

She moaned at the first brush of his fingers, just as overly sensitive as he was, and _God_ how she had missed his dirty mouth. She had missed _everything_ so much, and now that she had him back and they were close like this again, no interruptions in sight, she couldn't get enough. He touched her like no time had passed at all, still knowing how she liked it best and feeling exponentially better than her own fingers. There wasn't even a comparison, she thought as she moaned into the pillow to muffle the sound and he buried his face into her neck, breathing hard and rubbing her more quickly as his vision began to blur.

He held on just long enough for her to let go first, her entire body quaking and ragged gasps leaving her open mouth as she saw stars and rode out the best orgasm she'd had in years. He was right behind her, fingers still buried between her legs as he stopped fighting to make it last and gave in, moaning quietly but brokenly against her skin as pleasure he'd been denied for far too long washed over him and left him blissfully sated for the first time in forever.

They both came down together, breathing hard and not moving a muscle, unwilling to break the spell and bring the moment to an end. By the time that Summer was coherent enough to speak and turn her head to look at him, she found herself smiling and laughing quietly under her breath.

He was asleep. Utterly dead to the world, and she couldn't blame him.

After removing his hand and letting his arm stay draped over her waist, she reached down and pulled the covers over them and settled back in at his side, nestled in his heat. She felt _amazing_ , loose and relaxed like she could sleep for a week, but even better, she felt truly happy and safe.

She drifted off to sleep in his arms, a little smile tugging at the corner of her lips until morning.

* * *

The morning after, Summer woke up alone, as per usual. More than used to it at this point, it didn't stop her from smiling and getting up with a certain spring in her step.

One quick shower and change of clothes later, she ventured out to the kitchen and smiled, puzzled, when she got a whiff of coffee and scrambled eggs. She also heard voices, mostly Rebecca's relentless chatter, and when she turned the corner, what she saw made her smile get _much_ bigger.

Bucky was making them breakfast and listening to Rebecca's very vividly detailed tale of how she had once found an injured bird at her old elementary school playground and nursed it back to health. David was there too, looking at his phone and smiling - which meant he was texting his girlfriend - and Adelaide was gently correcting her sister every time she accidentally exaggerated something in her story, something she was prone to doing.

Bucky noticed Summer standing there in the doorway the next time he glanced over his shoulder to grin at Rebecca, and when his eyes flitted up to Summer, the grin on his face fell before reforming into something a lot less innocent. Her cheeks flushed and she headed his way, still feeling his touch from the night before and her skin tingling as a result, and one could hardly blame her.

"Making breakfast today?" she smiled, standing beside him and looking at the pan of eggs he'd just finished. There was also bread in the toaster, and he was pouring her a cup of coffee as she looked everything over.

"Well, I tried," he chuckled with a small shrug. "It's been awhile, but I don't think I screwed anything up too bad."

He then handed her the cup of coffee, and as she took it, he gave her a small smile before leaning in and kissing her gently on her lips. It took her by surprise and made her heart flutter happily in her chest - this was the first time they'd kissed in front of the kids since that first day at the park.

Behind them, Rebecca giggled. She thought it was funny. Adelaide wrinkled her nose and stared at her sister like she was an alien, and David was still obliviously texting his lady to notice anything out of the ordinary.

When Bucky pulled away from the brief but sweet little kiss, Summer looked at him and smiled like a maniac. He smiled back, a little more subdued than her, but the smile reached his eyes and Summer could almost feel her heart sing with joy.

They were getting there, slowly but surely. Just like she'd known they would.

Steve and Natasha came by later that day for a visit. It was Thursday, and Thursdays were their usual days to make a trip down and have dinner with the family. Summer made a nice big dinner for everyone and Bucky got the door when they arrived, watching Adelaide's face light up with excitement at the sight of her aunt and uncle.

Though he couldn't and _wouldn't_ possibly resent Steve in the slightest for being there for Summer and the kids when he hadn't been, it didn't mean that it didn't hurt to see Adelaide clobber Steve with hugs and become a seemingly different child in his presence. She brightened up and talked his ear off, giggling at almost everything he said and dragging him out to the backyard where a basketball hoop stood so she could show him how her freethrows had improved since she'd last shown him.

It stung, but Bucky knew there was no point in letting it get him down. Addie had known Steve her whole life, and he was the most important and prominent male figure in her whole world. Bucky was glad that she had him and was forever grateful to Steve for being there for her and for all of them, but _damn_ he wished that Adelaide would light up for him like she did for Steve.

Meanwhile, as Summer put the finishing touches on dinner, Natasha handed her a second glass of wine in half an hour and asked, "So, what's got you all smiley?"

"Me?" Summer asked, smiling even wider at the accusation. "I'm not smiley."

"Oh yes you are," Natasha said, sipping her own wine. "Let me guess - you two are finally cozying back up to each other."

Summer's goofy smile gave it away. "Well, we... yeah, we're... we're getting closer."

Natasha grinned. "Told you all you needed was time. Is he finally off the couch?"

Summer nodded, leaning against the counter and downing some of her own wine. "Yeah. He's been staying in my room now for awhile."

"Should I take that wine back just in case?" Natasha asked cheekily. "Barnes is notorious for his aim, after all."

"Oh gosh, _no_ ," Summer giggled. "We're, um... we're taking it slow. We haven't actually... done that yet."

"All right," Natasha replied lightly. "Nothing wrong with that. Probably better that way, actually. It's been a long time."

"Yes it has," Summer sighed, swirling the wine in her glass and watching it swim. "And if you keep refilling my glass before I've even eaten dinner, I'm gonna end up throwing myself at him the minute the kids go to bed."

Natasha picked up the bottle and started to pour into Summer's glass again. "Well in that case, feel free to thank me later."

Summer laughed, and in the end she decided to hell with it and drank to her heart's content. A lovely night followed, and she found herself happy and laughing through a significant portion of it. The dinner she made was devoured in record time, the kitchen table full of laughter and easy conversation that made Bucky smile in that increasingly genuine way, and every time Summer saw it, she just wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him until she couldn't breathe.

She didn't, though. But there were a few times where he caught her staring at him and he'd give her a small but maddening little grin in return, and that was enough to get her heart racing.

After dinner, the little group filed into the living room to play a rather rousing game of Super Smash Bros on the impressively sized TV that Summer's first book had financed. Every single one of them played, and Steve and Bucky were the undisputed worst players who were killed the most. Summer was pretty good after years spent playing it with the kids, but the best players were David, Addie and Nat. Rebecca wasn't so good, and after Addie killed her one too many times, she almost burst into tears and gave up.

It was a little chaotic, but only in the best way. And even better, in between battles, Bucky would drape his arm across Summer's shoulders and just hold her like that, so simple and so casual of a touch, and Summer felt like she was floating. She was also on fire from the combination of the innocent touches, her memories from the night before, and the better part of the wine bottle that she had consumed.

She loved everybody dearly, but when they all finally left and the kids retreated to bed for the night, she couldn't have been happier.

Bucky was in the kitchen taking care of the dishes when she left the girls' room, turning off their light and closing the door behind her. They were both already knocked out, and _man_ was she glad. She wasted no time in heading for the kitchen, not trying to sneak up on Bucky because she knew she never could. Instead, she made her footsteps known and tried not to drool over the broad expanse of his back and shoulders underneath the slightly stretched fabric of his shirt as she approached him from behind.

Coming to a halt behind him, she took advantage of her height and only had to _just_ push up on her toes to nuzzle gently behind his ear. Her hands touched his waist first and then slid to his chest, and he froze with an audible hitch in his breath. He dropped the plate that had been in his hand, letting it clatter noisily to the sink as his eyes closed and she kissed just under his ear.

Absolutely adoring the effect that she instantly had on him, Summer kissed slowly down the side of his neck until he shuddered a little and turned around in her arms. Then, before she had a chance to take a breath, he picked her up like she weighed nothing and crashed his lips down on hers.

Her arms and legs wound around him, she barely noticed they were moving until her back hit her bedroom door. He broke their frantic kiss only to shove the door open and stumble inside, kicking it shut and then slamming her against as he looked her in the eyes and tightened his hands on her hips.

" _Fuck_ ," he growled, sliding his hands up the sides of her shirt as her legs tightened around him, grinding against him. "Are you drunk?"

She shook her head and smiled. "No. I just..."

"What?" he groaned, pressing her more tightly to the door and grinding against her, dropping his lips to kiss across her throat. "Tell, me baby."

She closed her eyes and nearly moaned just from the pet name itself. Curling her hand in his hair and feeling like her skin was on fire, she managed to choke out, "I love you so much."

His lips found their way back to hers, kissing her deeply after he repeated those words back to her, and she felt such a mixture of elation and desire that she felt like her soul could leave her body at any moment. Everything between them felt like it always used to and yet was so much _more_ now, heightened thanks to years of separation and now the high of having each other back, yet for all of their effort, they simply couldn't take their time or show one shred of patience.

They ended up on the foot of the bed, Bucky sitting with Summer straddling his lap, their lips locked in a furious and bruising kiss. Their hands were everywhere, chests heaving with deep breaths and both of them occasionally letting out a whine or soft groan when they just couldn't help it. Summer started pulling impatiently on his shirt, only breaking the kiss to pull it over his head and toss it aside, and then he was doing the same to her, as desperate to feel and see her as she was for him.

After nearly ripping her bra from her shoulders and throwing it like it was a cursed thing, Bucky's eyes fixed themselves wholly on her breasts and a tiny speck of self consciousness floated up to the surface of Summer's mind. She wasn't in her 20s anymore, or even her 30s, and time and gravity tended to not be so kind. They weren't as tight and perfect as they had once been, but if Bucky noticed that, he couldn't have possibly cared less. He groaned something inaudible and leaned forward, and then he was utterly worshipping what had always been two of his favorite parts of her. That little speck of self consciousness proceeded to fly out the window.

Using both his hands and his mouth in a coordinated attack that left her _dying_ , Bucky kissed and licked and nipped and squeezed and flicked until she was grinding almost frantically on his lap in an attempt to relieve the unbearable need for friction his actions caused. She held his head close and arched into every touch, looking down and watching him switch from one breast to the other. His eyes would close as he put his mouth on her, making her squirm with every roll of his tongue and kiss of his lips, and then he would pull away and open his eyes back up to watch his fingers touch her and watch her react to every little surge of pleasure in her veins.

He was breathtakingly hard underneath her, and every time she ground down against him, his entire body would tense and a faint groan would escape his throat. As needy as she was, the only thing eclipsing her desire for her own pleasure was the need to give him his own first, so with all the self-restraint she had, she gently pulled him away from her chest and leaned down to kiss his lips.

She kissed him until he he was breathless and grasping each and every part of her that he could reach. She rolled her hips against his a few more times and then started kissing down his neck, relishing his little shivers and breathy sounds that he made with every press of her lips on his skin. He reactions only grew stronger and more desperate as she made her way to his collarbone, then his chest, and ever lower until she had eased off of his lap and slipped down to the floor on her knees.

He nearly went out of his mind with anticipation when he watched her sink to the floor between his legs, undoing his jeans and watching him watch her. His mouth, kiss-swollen, hung open and his eyes were heavy-lidded as she gently but quickly got enough of the annoying fabric out of the way to get to what she wanted. Her eyes left his, falling instead to what she then took in her hand and gently, softly stroked, and that was almost enough to make him come undone right then.

" _God, Summer_ ," he gasped, almost too sensitive and too receptive. He watched her as she eased forward, then closed his eyes at the soft, teasing press of her lips to the tip of aching flesh, knowing that if he watched her, it would all be over before it even began.

He was just the same as she remembered him. It was like coming home again to feel him like this, to watch him try to hold on and stay in control as she slowly teased him with little kisses and flicks of her tongue and strokes of her hand, all of it driving him mad.

She kept it up until she heard a small, almost pathetic _please_ leave his lips. She couldn't bear to keep teasing him after that, not for another minute, so she closed her eyes and finally took him in her mouth, as far as she could take him, and Bucky would have woken the whole house with a broken moan if he hadn't managed to keep his mouth shut and let out a shaky gasp instead.

All this time later, she still knew him better than he knew himself, and she knew exactly what he liked and what he needed. She used her hand and her mouth together, working him slowly but never teasing him again, savoring everything about it from his taste to the way that he moaned softly above her and desperately clutched her hair between his metal fingers. She tried to make it last as long as she could, but when only a few minutes passed and his grip on her hair was tightening and his body tensing beneath her, she knew what that meant. She moaned around him, wordlessly telling him that it was okay, and with a rough, feral groan, he let go and spilled down her throat as he knew nothing but bliss for a few glorious seconds.

 _God_ , how Summer had missed this. After carefully releasing him and looking up at his beautifully wrecked face, pride and affection filled her up and left her feeling so happy again that she could burst. She left soothing little touches and kisses along his thighs, his stomach, his chest, and when she reached his lips, he kissed her and pulled her up to her feet. Then, kiss broken, he looked up at her, sated himself but hungry for something else. He undid her jeans and pulled them down her legs, leaving her in nothing but a little pair of lacy black underwear that she'd put on earlier in hopes of him seeing later.

Then she was on her back in the middle of the bed, in utter bliss herself as Bucky's weight pressed down upon her and he kissed the hell out of her. She had missed the feeling of this so much, of his larger body on top of hers, covering it and sliding across her skin, all of him pressed against all of her, and now that she got to have it again... _God_ , she was happy. She wasn't empty anymore, not like she had been for so very long without him.

He took his time with her, mapping out her body all over again. He found every little new or different thing that hadn't been there before - a tiny scar on her side from a minor car accident three years prior, a few faded stretch marks on her hips that had followed her last pregnancy - and he kissed all the little scars and imperfections that he did know and remember. Her scars told their story together, from when her leg was crushed by a drunk driver to when she was shot in the stomach by an assassin who'd been aiming for Bucky instead. He didn't think he'd ever get to hold her like this again and touch her like this, but now that he was, he was going to make it last as long as he could.

He told her with every new inch of skin he kissed how beautiful she was, how perfect she was, how he had missed her and how _fucking happy_ he was to finally have her back. His words made her nearly weep and his touches made her moan, and by the time his lips ghosted over her hipbone and he pulled a leg over his left shoulder, she was a mess of anticipation and arousal. He could _smell_ her, how much she needed him, and when he placed a chaste kiss to her through her thin panties, her body gave a soft jerk and she whined with anticipation.

He grinned up at her, his mouth suddenly watering, and he hooked one flesh and one metal finger into the flimsy fabric and started to pull. Just as it slipped beneath her hips, an obnoxiously loud noise suddenly rang out from the table next to the bed and made them both freeze.

Summer looked over towards the table, confused by the sound coming from the small flip phone sitting there. Then she looked at Bucky and felt her heart drop at how the color had suddenly drained from his face and left dread and fear in its stead.

The phone continued to ring, and when Bucky's eyes met hers, she immediately knew what it meant.

"I'm sorry," he said, his tone filled with shame where there had once been heat and passion instead. Then he crawled out from between her legs and grabbed the phone off the table, putting the phone to his ear and answering the call with a gruff and clearly irritated tone.

Summer pulled at the covers, covering herself with a sheet and watching Bucky as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. He said nothing, and a few moments of silence passed before he muttered a curt _confirm_ and then hung up.

Then he tossed the phone on the table carelessly and dropped his head into his hands. Summer moved behind him, still keeping the sheet on as she put a hand on his shoulder and lean her chin next to it. She kissed his neck gently and asked, "Mission?"

He nodded. "I have to leave tonight."

She suddenly felt cold. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and not let him go, and she could hardly believe the horrible timing, but there was nothing either one of them could do. Unfortunately, no matter how much he hated it, the job had to come first.

"I'm sorry," he said again, turning his head towards hers. "I promise I'll make it up to you when I get back."

She forced a smile, nodding and giving him a gentle kiss. "I know. And it's okay. I understand."

And it was the truth. She would be fine, as frustrated as she was, because she had lived with frustration for ten years and hadn't lost her mind yet. What _wasn't_ okay was how Bucky had to drop every last thing at every whim of these nameless, faceless people, and be available to them at all hours to do their dirty work and pull their triggers for them.

But this was life now. They shared one more kiss and then Summer let him go, watching him get up and get dressed and throw what he'd need for the next few days into a bag. She'd miss seeing his face in the mornings, miss his arms around her at night and the comfort of his presence, and he would miss her just the same. Neither one of them would sleep well until they were reunited and he was safe under her roof once more.

One day, she hoped, he'd be free of the CIA's chains. Until then, they just had to keep pushing through it.

* * *

This time, he was gone for a full week. And When an Iranian diplomat was reported dead on the news by apparent suicide, Summer's stomach twisted into a knot that only grew tighter when Bucky came back home the very next day. But she didn't ask because she couldn't bear to, and the darkness that had returned to Bucky's eyes told her all that she needed to know anyway.

When he walked through the door in the middle of dinner the night that he returned, Rebecca greeted him with a big hug and kiss on the cheek. He smiled and squeezed her back, and Adelaide greeted him with a much more cautious and simple hello. It was a far warmer greeting than he'd gotten before, however, and after David and Summer hugged him and brought him to the table to eat, he was already starting to feel a little better and a little more human.

But only a little. Summer could see it, the weight of the world resting on his shoulders again, the toll that his job was taking on him. It was tearing him apart inside to constantly leave his family and turn off his humanity in order to kill for his superiors. But there was nothing she could do aside from help him to pick the pieces back up every time he came home to her, even if they both knew he'd just shatter again in another month's time.

That night he spent an ungodly amount of time in the shower, trying in vain to wash away the new blood stains on his hands. Summer waited for him in bed, and when he crawled in next to her and let her pull him into her arms and cradle him like she always did whenever he needed comfort, it was just enough to finally give him enough peace to allow him deep sleep for the first time since he'd last left her.

As he quietly snored into the night, Summer shed a few quiet tears that fell from her cheek into his hair. She hated what he was going through so badly, beyond what mere words could say, and it ripped her up inside to see him so broken and having to bear a burden that _nobody_ should be subjected to.

She fell asleep before her last tear had dried. They stayed close and entwined throughout the night, sleeping in rather late but not late enough to out-sleep their kids, which was something that they both ended up being quite grateful for.

* * *

For the first time in _years_ , Summer woke up to warm lips on her neck and hot shivers racing down her spine.

Bucky had drifted back to consciousness first that morning to find himself and his wife tangled up in each other and wearing very few clothes - him just a pair of boxer briefs he'd thrown on after his shower, and her only one of his shirts that she'd hijacked weeks ago to sleep in. She was _so_ warm and soft and beautiful as she laid there next to him, still sleeping peacefully and sparking as much desire within him as she had fifteen years earlier. He loved her so, _so_ much, and laying there like that with her not only served to soothe his very soul but also to remind him that he owed her something following his abrupt departure a week earlier.

He started slowly and sweetly, not wanting to jar her awake but instead gently pull her from her sleep, and that was exactly what he did. He let his hand slip under the fabric covering her body, sliding his palm over her hip and then her belly, leaning up and pressing a series of soft kisses along her neck. She stirred and he pulled away to watch her, then grinned to himself when she didn't quite wake but simply shifted and resettled, lips parting as she drifted back off. He reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, then leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth before trailing across her jaw and back to her neck, his hand sliding between her thighs and caressing her there.

She woke up when he nipped at a sensitive spot on her neck with incredible gentleness. She jerked a little and opened her eyes with a sharp intake of breath, and he looked up and met her sleepy and bewildered gaze with a slightly devious little grin.

"Hey," he murmured, voice rough from sleep and low with desire.

She smiled and blushed as his hand trailed up her thigh and back over her stomach, inching her shirt further up. "... Hi."

"I made a promise to you before I left," he said, easing on top of her. She opened her legs and let him settle between them, arms winding around his neck as he pressed just enough of his weight down on her to make her sigh contentedly. "And I _really_ wanna keep that promise."

"... And I _really_ want you to," she grinned, biting her lip in anticipation. He grinned back a little bit before bringing his lips to hers, his kiss soft but consuming, and before he allowed himself to get too lost in her, he broke the kiss and then peeled his shirt from her body. He dropped it on the floor and then gazed down upon her, naked save for a tiny pair of pale pink lacy panties, and the surge of arousal that burst through his veins was almost too much to bear.

" _Fuck_ ," he groaned breathlessly, dropping his forehead against hers and closing his eyes in an attempt to hold himself together. Her fingers slid through his short locks and she wrapped a leg over his hip, pulling him down closer to her so she could try to grind up against him, looking for any friction that she could get. He let it happen, grinding with her and murmuring against her lips, " _God_ , I love you so much."

"I love you too," she whispered back, one hand staying in his hair while the other slid across his broad shoulders. "Still can't believe you're here."

He opened his eyes and met hers, both of them sharing a poignant and slightly painful look before his lips descended on hers again. This time he gave himself over to her and the desire between them entirely, both of them kissing each other like it might be their last day on earth before his thirst to taste the rest of her became too great to ignore. He kissed a trail down her throat to her collarbone, then made her sigh and squirm when his mouth traced along the swell of her breast until his tongue reached her nipple.

The gentle scratch of her nails across his scalp encouraged him as he lavished her breasts with attention, wanting to simply drown in her and never come up for air. He was so overwhelmed already that he couldn't help but curse and moan with his mouth on one breast and his metal fingers on the other.

He didn't expect her lust-laden but quiet voice to then ask breathlessly, "So you still like them?"

He stopped and looked up at her, brows furrowing in confusion as if she'd just spoken words that didn't even work in a sentence. "What?"

"Well, I'm... older than I was back then," she shrugged, cheeks blushing brightly with embarrassment. "And I nursed Becca till she was 3... that and... gravity does things, so..."

"Summer," he said lowly, looking her in the eye, "you're _perfect_. You're even better than I remember, 'cause you're _real_."

Her expression softened and her eyes got a little watery, and the next thing he knew they were kissing like mad again. There was so much time to make up for, so much that he wanted to do to her, but the kids would be up soon and he knew that. He needed to make this little morning together count as much as he could, so he reluctantly broke their kiss and focused on his primary mission - getting his mouth on her and feasting the way that a woman like her deserved to be feasted on.

He kissed, licked and nipped his way down her body, not going too slow or too fast but moving just quickly enough so as to not keep either of them waiting. She trembled with desperate need as he pulled her panties down and kissed her inner thighs, pulling away to discard the fabric and then lowering himself right back down to continue his open-mouthed journey inwards.

She was a wreck, quietly whimpering and grasping at whatever she could, his hair, the sheets, his shoulders, and he himself was nearly shaking with need. Just the scent of her made his head spin, and when he'd finally settled between her legs and taken his first taste of her in _years_ , she gasped and he groaned with satisfaction.

He felt like he was home again. Of all the many things that they had done together before and all the times they'd been intimate and pushed each other to their limits, _this_ had always been one of his very favorite acts. He could take her apart like this as slowly or as quickly as he wanted, have her begging and writhing at his mercy in seconds, and few things made her get as loud as this did. He _loved_ it, loved having her thighs wrapped around his head and her taste and scent surrounding him and _engulfing_ him, placing her and her alone at the center of his very universe. He'd missed it so much, missed everything about it, and that only made it all the sweeter to finally get to have her like this again.

She covered her mouth with her fingers to keep quiet, but her body did all the talking for her and gave away how completely in utter bliss she was. He didn't try to tease her or drag it out, slipping two metal fingers within her when he felt her tensing and teetering on the edge, and only seconds later she shot off like a rocket. He opened his eyes and watched her as she arched off the bed and towards his face, biting her fingers and gasping hard through her release, and he could have stayed like that and watched her fall apart forever and been perfectly happy.

But the moment did, unfortunately, have to come to an end. He helped to ease her through the earth-shaking experience and, once she was lying limp and beautifully sated on the bed, he finally came up for air and began a slow, sweet journey back up her body. He was painfully hard and could hardly stand it, but it was the last thing on his mind as she smiled up at him shyly and then closed her eyes as he kissed her.

He teasingly nipped at her lower lip as he pulled away, and they both smiled as they opened their eyes and stared at one another. "I've missed that," he murmured, sliding his hand into her hair and stealing another kiss. "A lot."

"Me too," she giggled lightly, still breathless. "I could barely keep my mouth shut."

"I wish you hadn't," he grinned as her hands drifted down to his lower back.

"Yeah, well... kids," she reminded him, eyes flickering to his lips as she pushed his underwear as far down his thighs as she could manage. She got what she wanted as a result, his hard bare flesh pressing to her softer, _much_ wetter skin, and it made his jaw clench and body tense. She bit her lip and slid a hand between them, finding him and stroking softly before placing him where she wanted him. "Go slow," she whispered, a little bit of nervousness returning to her eyes. "It's been a long time."

He nodded, voice dropping to a husky whisper of his own. "Yeah. You've _never_ felt as tight around my fingers as you do now."

She blushed and squirmed a little. "Guess you're gonna have to break me in again."

His lips twitched in a small smirk, and then his mouth covered hers in a gentle kiss as he began to slowly, painstakingly gently ease his way inside of her. She tensed a little bit almost immediately, but when he whispered for her to relax and that he loved her and wouldn't dare to hurt her, she took a deep breath and her body did indeed relax. Then he pushed in the rest of the way inch by inch until they were fully joined together - _finally,_ after so long spent apart - and they were both already breathing hard and fast.

" _My God_ , _Summer_ ," he moaned, forehead against hers. " _Fuck_ , baby. You're so _tight_ I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."

She shivered in his arms, clutching his shoulders for dear life as she panted against his lips. " _I love you_ ,"

He nearly cried in that moment, overcome with so much emotion that it was a wonder that he didn't simply break down then and there. "I love you too, sweetheart. Can I..."

She nodded frantically, and he finally began to move. Just like with everything else that morning, he started slow and gentle and was careful not to hurt her. It was almost like the first time all over again, and in many ways it truly was - including the duration of their lovemaking.

It was perfect, sweet, hot, utterly intoxicating and everything that he remembered sex with her to be. It was so good and so perfect, in fact, that his stamina failed him entirely and only moments later he was barely hanging on and gasping, "I can't - I'm gonna... fuck." He then growled and his metal hand shot between them, its light but potent vibration humming to life as he rubbed her quickly and made her gasp and throw her head back. He was determined to make her come with him, and he was racing his own impending end to make that happen.

And to his relief, he succeeded. Moving inside of her at an angle that hit all the right places and his hand taking care of the rest, she sunk her nails into his back and came a second time with a silent scream falling from her open mouth. The sensation of her tightening and pulsing around him sent him hurtling over the edge with a moan that he muffled by burying his face into her neck, and for a few beautiful, desperately needed moments, all was right in the world again. He was where he belonged and so was she, and they were _together_ and nobody could tear them apart again.

The moments after were hazy and warm and blurry, neither of them very interested in coming back to reality just yet. He eased off of her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her gently as they snuggled under the covers and took shelter in one another, enjoying the afterglow and not tainting it with words or thoughts for a long time. And when one of them finally spoke, it still didn't quite break the spell.

"Sorry," Bucky said, his eyes still closed and voice a little gravelly. "Wanted that to last longer."

"It was perfect," she assured him with a smile, kissing his chest and keeping her eyes closed too. "Don't be sorry for _any_ of that. Besides," she added as her smile widened and she opened her eyes to peer up at him, "we'll have plenty of chances to make it last longer."

He grinned back and leaned in, kissing her lips again and feeling like he could drift off to sleep again. They laid there like that for an unknown amount of time, kissing lazily and sharing each other's warmth and a few sweet words here and there, and it was absolutely perfect.

At least until there was a sudden knock on the door and the sound of Rebecca's voice softly calling, "Mama?"

And then the spell was officially broken. Summer's eyes widened and Bucky froze, and they stared at each other in alarm for a second before Summer began wildly scrambling out of the bed in desperate search of clothes. "Hang on, Becca!" She then hissed frantically to Bucky, " _Did you lock the door_?"

Looking like a deer in headlights, Bucky shook his head and Summer squeaked and flailed her way to their dresser. After throwing on a shirt backwards and getting one leg into a pair of yoga pants, Bucky was slapped in the face with a pair of his own pants, and thankfully they each got dressed enough to prevent any embarrassing mishaps by the time that Rebecca opened the door and stuck her head inside. By then, Summer was back in bed and doing her best to appear nonchalant as she chirped, "Hey, sweetie!"

Eyeing her parents curiously and clutching one of her favorite teddy bears under her arm, Rebecca hesitated only briefly before scrambling up on the bed and sitting in front of them, declaring, "Me and Addie want pancakes."

Summer sighed and briefly glanced at Bucky, who gave her a small, amused smile. "Okay. I can make pancakes. Is that what you wanted?"

Rebecca nodded. "Yep." She then paused and looked between both of them before asking, "Do you guys love each other?"

Taken aback by the question, Summer smiled at Bucky before telling her, "Yeah, of course we do. I've loved your daddy for a _long_ time."

"Does that mean I get to have a little sister someday?"

Bucky grinned and watched Summer blush and fall speechless for a moment. "Um... well... I mean... maybe? I'm getting old, though, so..."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "You're _not_ old."

"Well, I'm definitely past my prime child-bearing years," Summer sighed, turning back to Rebecca. "So I can't say for sure. But I guess there's a chance."

Rebecca then turned her attention to her father, and it was as she stared at the place where metal met flesh on his shoulder that they both realized it was her first time seeing the arm in its entirety. Then she asked in that completely innocent, unassuming way of hers, "What happened to your arm?"

For a moment - but only a moment - Bucky was genuinely clueless as to how to answer her. There was so much that Rebecca didn't know and so much that he hoped she _never_ did, but she was old enough to understand this, at least. "A long time ago," he began quietly, "I fell off a train and hurt my arm. Then I got this one."

"Did it hurt?" she asked, her big bright blue eyes widening a little.

"Yeah," he replied gently. "Yeah, it did. But it was a long time ago."

"Before I was born?"

He smiled a little. " _Way_ before that."

"Are you really 100 years old?"

He glanced at Summer and shared a smile with her before musing, "Actually, I think I'm 112 now."

"You don't look old," she noted. "You kinda look younger than Mama."

Summer glared at her daughter, utterly scandalized. "... Seriously?"

Rebecca then giggled and broke out into full belly laughs as Summer reached out and grabbed her, tickling her until she collapsed in a heap between both of her parents. Then as she caught her breath and Summer snuggled to her side, Rebecca sighed, "I'm _hungry_. I want pancakes."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Summer muttered. "Chocolate chips or blueberries?"

"Blueberries," both Rebecca and Bucky replied in unison. Then they both laughed and Summer grinned, shaking her head with pure affection.

"Fine," she said, dragging herself out of bed. "Extra blueberries for anyone who helps me cook and clean up."

"Ooh!" Rebecca exclaimed, grinning up at Bucky before dashing up and after Summer. He chuckled and watched them go, sharing a small, slightly mischievous grin with Summer before she disappeared around the corner. He sat up fully and ran a hand through his hair, then looked down at his hands as he took a moment to himself before getting up and following them.

He loved them _so_ much. Maybe the sacrifices he'd made to be with them again were worth it after all. Maybe it was worth losing pieces of his soul every few weeks. Maybe this was his punishment for all of his old sins, a blood-soaked compromise that at least left him happy _most_ of the time.

Maybe all the killing and all the secrecy was worth it if he got to spend lazy mornings in bed with Summer and have pancake breakfasts with his kids.

* * *

Later on that day, while David was playing catch outside with Rebecca and Summer was tending to a small garden of hers in the backyard, Bucky walked inside and found Adelaide sitting at the table, texting on her phone. She briefly glanced up at him and didn't say anything as he went to sit next to her, the awkwardness between them still palpable despite the progress they'd made. But that was what he was trying to fix, one step at a time, and this was the latest step.

After settling down next to her, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled something small out, but she couldn't see what it was just yet. "While I was gone," he said quietly, "my flight stopped in Paris on the way back to refuel. I saw something in one of the little airport shops that reminded me of you."

Setting her phone down and looking up at him in surprise, Adelaide's eyes then widened when he opened his palm and showed her what was in it. It was a small, sparkly little necklace with a ballerina pendant.

"Oh," she breathed, clearly having not expected any kind of gift, let alone anything like that. "Wow. Is that real?"

"For what I paid for it, I hope so," he chuckled. She smiled at his joke and then took the necklace, admiring it as he watched her. "Your mom showed me videos of your recitals. You're amazing."

"Well... Aunt Nat's a good coach," Adelaide shrugged. "I could be better."

Bucky chuckled. "You know who you sound like?"

Adelaide paused and glanced at him before guessing, "Mom?"

He nodded, still wearing a little smile. "She's never known how to take a compliment either."

Adelaide smiled back and then turned back to the necklace, staring at the pretty little pendant for a moment or two. Then she turned back to him and asked quietly, "When you leave, where do you go?"

His smile instantly fell from his face and was replaced by a deep, withered frown. He looked away from her and muttered, "Wherever they send me."

"Who's they?" she asked. When he merely glanced at her and didn't answer, she deduced, "You can't say."

He nodded. "I'm sorry. I owe you the truth, but I just... can't."

"Are you killing people again?" she asked, voice small and a little fearful. "I know that's what they used to make you do."

His heart sunk, utterly despising the fact that his wretched history was something that his innocent children had to deal with and process just as he had. As heavy of a burden as it was for him to bear, he hated that Adelaide also had to carry it, in her own way. She deserved a better father than him, one that had been there for her from the beginning and didn't come back into her life out of the blue due after making a deal with the devil.

"Can't you find a way to stop?" she asked, taking his silence for all the answer she needed. "I mean... can't Uncle Steve help you? If they're making you do things -"

"Don't worry about it," he interrupted her gently. "Please don't. I'm gonna find a way out eventually. I just... I don't know how yet."

She nodded, eyes drifting back to the necklace and silence falling again. Then she found the delicate clasp on the chain and put the necklace on, laying the pendant on the front of her shirt before standing up. He expected her to grab her phone and leave, but instead she threw her arms around him and hugged him for the first time since he'd come back.

"Thank you," she said as he embraced her back in mild, entirely pleasant shock. "And I'm sorry for being a jerk to you for so long."

"It's okay," he smiled, closing his suddenly watery eyes. "I understand." Then he swallowed hard and added, "I'm sorry for not being there for you."

Before Addie pulled away, Rebecca had been about to pull open the glass door from the backyard when she looked in and saw what was happening. She gaped and then called her mom and brother over, and as a result, everyone got to witness the moment that Adelaide finally let her guard down and started giving her father a chance.

It was a moment that Bucky would never forget. It was also the moment where he realized that not only did he have to find a way out of his arrangement with the CIA, but that he was _going_ to, whatever it took. And nothing was going to stand in his way.

* * *

A few weeks later, as summer turned to fall, the girls went back to school and David headed back to Julliard in Manhattan. The house was suddenly a lot quieter a lot more often, but Bucky and Summer found ways to remedy that - namely, christening every inch of the house after the kids were dropped off at school.

In many ways, it was like a second honeymoon. They got to act like newlyweds again and spend the whole day together, sometimes lounging in bed or on the couch watching movies, sometimes spending time with Steve or Nat during their frequent visits, and sometimes spending nearly the entire day naked and defiling every clear surface they could find. Suffice it to say that Adelaide never would have eaten at the kitchen table again if she'd known what horrifying things had happened on top of it more than once.

And while Summer and Bucky nurtured their relationship and grew as close as they had once been years earlier, Steve and the other Avengers began looking hard for a way to get Bucky out of his current contract with the CIA. It was extremely hard to do, however, since his pardon was dependent on the contract remaining intact. Earth's mightiest heroes couldn't do a lot when it came to constitutional law and presidential pardons, unfortunately.

He completed two more missions for the CIA in the meantime. Then, a week before Halloween rolled around, he was called in again for an assignment that changed everything.

His target was not a terrorist or drug trafficker or a diplomat with ties terrorist cells. His target was the President of the United States.

Naturally, when Bucky looked down at the file that Agent Amy Pearce had slid in front of him at an underground bunker in Langley, he refused. In fact, he laughed in her face.

"Go fuck yourself," he told her. "You want her dead, kill her yourself."

Agent Pearce sighed, annoyed, and pulled her phone from the pocket of her pantsuit. She then slid it in front of him, next to the file, and watched as his face fell and paled. "I had a feeling you'd require some convincing."

On the screen was a live feed of Summer and the girls at the park near their house. Bucky watched in horror as the camera zoomed in on the back of Adelaide's head, upon which a red sniper's dot rested.

"Do this for us and they live," Agent Pearce explained calmly. "Refuse and they die in an unfortunate random shooting in Central Florida."

Bucky's eyes flashed up to hers, radiating anger and rage and _hatred_ in his burning glare. She merely smiled and picked her phone back up and pocketed it, telling him, "Good. Thank you for your cooperation."

Then she got up and left, leaving him to prep for his latest op. It was then that he realized without a shred of shock that this "department" of the CIA that he worked for did not, in fact, answer to the President and likely never had. His pardon had been forged or faked, or both. It was all an illusion, and they'd played on his most vulnerable emotions and his humanity to manipulate him into doing their bidding.

But he wasn't going to do this. He wasn't going to let his family die, and he also wasn't going to assassinate the President to spare their lives. He had a contingency plan, one that he'd devised with Steve and the other Avengers recently, and now was the time to deploy it.

His slid his right hand under the neck of his shirt, reaching behind his left shoulder to the metal there. Embedded within the plates was a tiny little chip that he then activated, and at that very moment, his friends in New York were instantly alerted.

Steve and Tony were in the compound having lunch when Tony's watch began beeping insistently. Steve's phone began beeping identically at the same time, and each of the other Avengers received similar alerts on their own personal devices.

Tony and Steve shared one brief look before the latter said, "Start tracking him. I'll call in Thor."

"Yep," Tony said, getting up and leaving his lunch untouched and heading straight for the Avengers' equivalent of a war room.

There was no turning back now. Whatever happened next, good or bad, would determine Bucky's ultimate fate, as well as that of his family.

* * *

24 hours later, Summer was taking care of her small but robust garden while the girls played nearby and bickered over who was going to be what for Halloween. It was a nice, cool fall day, and Summer was doing everything she could to keep her anxiety at bay while Bucky was gone doing who knew what who knew where.

Then there was a rumble in the sky - odd for a clear day - and Summer looked up just in time to be nearly blinded by the Bifrost erupting from the very heavens and beaming down right to the middle of her backyard. Then the colors faded and left a familiar face standing in its wake, grinning and dressed for battle with Mjolnir in hand.

"Thor!" both girls squeaked in delight, running to him and clobbering him with hugs and making him laugh. Summer scrambled to her feet and brushed the dirt from her hands and knees, utterly bewildered and highly confused but very happy to see him.

"What are you _doing_ here?" she asked happily, getting a hug of her own in after the girls reluctantly let him go.

"Saving your lives," Thor replied with a grin. "All of you, hold on to me and try not to vomit. At least not on me."

"... What?" Summer asked, eyes wide and confused.

Thor simply scooped all three of them up in his enormous arms and replied, "We're going for a ride."

Then, in the blink of an eye, they were all in the air... and screaming.

He flew them from Florida to the Avengers compound in New York far faster than any plane could have ever taken them. And when their feet finally touched ground again, Summer was the first to stagger off and throw up, followed by Rebecca. Adelaide just barely kept her own lunch down.

Thor laughed and patted Summer and Rebecca on the back. "Feel better?"

"Okay," Summer panted, hands on her knees and face still pale, "What the fricking _frick_ is going on?"

Meanwhile, back in Manhattan, David and his girlfriend Kylie were sitting at a table outside of a coffee shop when a flash of red in David's peripheral vision caught his attention. He looked to his left and froze in immediate concern when he saw Wanda standing there, dressed in her uniform and immediately throwing a shield made purely of her scarlet-tinged energy around both him and Kylie.

"We have to go," she told him, and he didn't question her. He got up and pulled his wide-eyed and slightly terrified girlfriend to her feet, and then they too were headed to the compound.

Meanwhile, in Washington D.C., all hell was about to break loose.

* * *

Staring down his scope at the face of the President, who was in the middle of giving a speech on the economy to a crowd of several thousand, Bucky was perched in top level of a parking garage and invisible to anyone on the ground. Except that wasn't exactly true. He _had_ been seen coming in, but by Secret Service agents who were apparently in on the conspiracy along with Agent Pearce and her department. He might as well have strolled into position on a red carpet.

There was a revolver pressed to the back of his head, but he didn't pay it much mind. Threatening his life wasn't nearly as effective as threatening his family, but Agent Pearce seemed to want her bases covered anyway.

"Why do you want her dead, anyway?" Bucky asked, and the agent behind him snorted in derision.

"Why does anyone want anybody dead?" she asked. "It's none of your concern. Just do as you're told, soldier, and you'll be back home with your family by nightfall."

"And if I don't?"

"Then they die and the President dies anyway," she replied. "You really think I didn't have a contingency plan?"

His eyes flickered from the President and scanned the perimeter, looking for second or third shooters. He located them all using his tactical knowledge of where he would place shooters if it where him in charge. There were three ready and in various positions, all facilitated by those few corrupt Secret Service agents, ready to take the President down if the Winter Soldier failed to do so first.

He'd expected no less. Eyes back on the President, Bucky asked, "Are you Hydra?"

"We're what Hydra tried and failed to be," she replied. "We..." She paused and pressed a finger to her ear, still holding the gun to his head. " _What_?"

He tried not to grin. He had a feeling he knew exactly what she'd just been told on that earpiece.

She then pressed the gun harder to his head and growled, "Your family's gone. What did you _do_?"

This time, he _did_ grin. "Nothing, _ma'am_."

Then, a familiar metallic sound rang out, and Steve's shield collided with her arm and knocked the gun out of her hand along with cleanly breaking her wrist. She cried out in shock and pain and Bucky didn't even look back to watch Steve take out the other agents surrounding them. Instead he shifted his aim and fired, taking out the first backup shooter. At that first gunshot, chaos broke out and the crowd started screaming, and the President halted her speech and froze before Secret Service agents who _weren't_ traitors grabbed her and took her to safety. Then Bucky took out the remaining two shooters before any of them could even comprehend what was happening, each of them dead from single shots to the head.

Then he got to his feet and turned around to find all the other agents unconscious, Steve and Sam standing before him and Agent Pearce on her knees with her hands cuffed behind her back.

"Are they safe?" Bucky asked immediately, and Steve nodded.

"They're at the compound with Thor and Wanda," he replied. Then, from the ground, Natasha confirmed to Steve's earpiece that the President was secure. He then grinned and joked, "Good thing Tony gave your arm that upgrade awhile ago."

Bucky grinned back. "Guess even Stark has good ideas every once in awhile."

On the ground, Agent Pearce looked up at Bucky with rage in her eyes. "You think this is over? This was just _one_ op. We're _everywhere_. You can't stop -"

Sam kicked her in the face and knocked her unconscious. "Shut the hell up."

Then Secret Service flooded their level of the parking garage, guns out and ready to shoot. Bucky dropped his gun and held up his hands, and when they saw both Captain America and the Falcon standing there with an apprehended CIA agent and quite a few more unconscious ones lying on the ground, most of them blinked in confusion and clearly had no idea _what_ they'd just walked in on.

"... We're gonna need to talk to the President," Steve said.

* * *

One hour later, Bucky was standing somewhere he thought he'd never _ever_ be - the Oval Office of the White House. Steve, Sam, Natasha and Tony were there at his side, but the President's eyes were fixed upon him and him alone at the moment.

"You saved my life and exposed an apparently deep rooted and horrific conspiracy in my own government," she said in disbelief, "and _that_ is all you want in return?"

He nodded and replied respectfully, "Yes, ma'am."

She sighed and leaned back in her seat. "And here I assumed a pardon - a real one - and every medal in the book was in order. But... all right. If you're sure."

"I'm sure," he replied.

"Okay," she smiled. "And for what it's worth, Sgt. Barnes, you're every bit the hero that my grandpa said you were when I was growing up."

Bucky looked at her in confusion before Steve grinned and connected the dots for him. After all, he'd had a long day.

"President Gabriella Jones," he told Bucky, and then realization dawned upon him. Bucky's eyes widened and he smiled as his mouth hung open in surprise.

"Gabe was your grandfather?" he murmured, and the President nodded and stood up, walking around her desk with a smile.

"Yes he was," she said, "so on behalf of him and the entire country... thank you for not just what you did here today, but for your entire life's worth of service. I think you've more than earned some R&R."

She then shook his hand, and Bucky was simply blown away. He smiled and shook her hand back, suddenly humbled and unable to speak a single word. She could tell how overcome he was, so she did the talking.

"Even though I wish you'd let me honor you the way that I'd like to... I'll honor your request," she said, letting go of his hand. "Thank you, Sergeant, for saving my life."

"Thank you for giving mine back," he smiled, the weight of the world finally, _finally_ lifting from his weary shoulders.

After all of this time and everything he'd endured, he'd finally been relieved of duty once and for all. He was a free man in every sense of the word, no longer chained to forces that wanted to use him in ways that left him feeling hollow and dead inside. He was alive and he was _free_ , and was never _ever_ going to look back. This was his true second chance, and he'd never take it for granted so long as there was breath in his lungs.

Now all he had to do was go get his family and _go home_ at last.

* * *

Two weeks later, Bucky awoke in his and Summer's Florida home to the sensation of claws kneading gently but sharply into his abs through his shirt. He opened his eyes and glared at Loki the cat, who seemed quite happy with what he was doing and was purring rather contentedly. Bucky grumbled out a curse but scratched behind the creature's ear before pushing him off and rolling over to throw his arm around Summer.

But she was nowhere to be found. Bucky frowned and then sat up, looking around and noticing the light on under the bathroom door. Mystery solved, he rubbed at his eyes and then got out of bed, deciding that he might as well get a head start on making coffee since he didn't have Summer to distract himself with.

After wandering to the kitchen and getting the coffeemaker going, he headed over to the front door and fetched the newspaper from the top step. One of the kind old neighbors was walking her dog along the sidewalk and waved; he waved back and offered a friendly _good morning_ , then headed back inside and unrolled the paper. And promptly halted in his tracks.

The front page's headline exclaimed, _Winter Soldier James Buchanan Barnes Found Dead in Prison Cell_. A picture of him from the trial ran next to the headline, and the story beneath reported a tale that President Jones had personally spun herself. Apparently the Winter Soldier had been found dead of natural causes in his cell the previous morning when guards had come to fetch him for a scheduled shower. An autopsy would be performed to determine the exact cause of death, and - in a controversial move that Bucky had not been expecting - the President would be issuing a posthumous pardon to the deceased soldier.

A smile tugging at his lips, Bucky dropped the newspaper on the kitchen table and then grabbed a mug as he made his way back to the coffeemaker. President Jones had made good on her promise, and now he was truly free to live his life as he pleased. He and Summer could go anywhere and do anything, raise their kids how they wanted without threats looming over their heads or unwanted attention thrust upon them. The Winter Soldier was dead, and now Bucky could live again.

With an extra spring in his step, Bucky took two cups of coffee back into his bedroom, Loki the cat at his heels the whole way there. When he returned to find Summer still in the bathroom, he set the cups down on their bedside table and went to the door, gently knocking on it and asking, "You alive in there?"

"Yeah!" she chirped back, and he heard the sound of several things crashing and falling before she hurried to the door and unlocked it. It swung open to reveal her smiling and slightly jittery face as she half-exclaimed, "Hi!"

"Hi," he repeated with a small laugh. "You okay?"

"Oh, I am perfect," she grinned, and it was then that he noticed that she was hiding something in her hand behind her back.

He raised an eyebrow. "... What are you trying to hide back there?"

"Nothing," she immediately lied, face going up in flames. He tilted his head to try to peer over her shoulder, and she moved so that he couldn't.

"Oh really?" he grinned.

She then deflated a little and let out a sigh. "I just... I wanted to do this in some kind of cute way but... well... oh well." She then shrugged and finally showed him what she was hiding.

It was a thin little white stick, on the edge of which were two very pink lines. He knew exactly what it was and what it meant, and had he still been holding their cups of coffee, he would have dropped them both. Instead, he paled and swayed on his feet a little.

"... Oh my God,"

She smiled as widely as her cheeks could handle. "We're having a baby. I'm almost 42 and you're 112 and we're having a baby."

He laughed in response, breathlessly at first and then with full, gloriously light and true laughter. Then he scooped her up in his arms and they laughed together, the absurdity and hilarity and joy of it all making their hearts and spirits soar.

On the day that the world learned of his supposed "death", he and Summer learned of the new life they would soon be bringing into the world. It was bizarrely perfect and entirely unexpected, and if both of their eyes were full of tears by the time Bucky put her down, who could have blamed them?

"My God, this is really happening," he marveled, smiling excitedly with Summer. "We're really having another baby."

"Yeah!" she giggled. "Your aim is as good as ever, I guess."

"Fucking hell," he chuckled, kissing her sweetly and feeling like he had truly been given a second chance in every possible sense of the word. He didn't deserve it, but _God_ was he grateful for it.

When they broke apart Summer whispered excitedly, "Let's go tell the kids!"

Then she grabbed his hand and dashed off with him in tow, both of them giggling and laughing the entire way to their daughters' rooms. They told Rebecca first, who immediately squealed with joy and catapulted out of bed to hug them both while chanting _thank you thank you thank you_ over and over, as if it was Christmas morning and she'd just woken up to the best present ever. Then, when they went to tell Addie next, Rebecca jumped on her and exclaimed "Mama's having a baby!" until she woke up enough to comprehend what she was yelling about. Then Adelaide had looked at Summer and asked confusedly, "You're still young enough to do that?!"

Summer fought the urge to smack the back of Addie's head for _that_ one.

Later on, all four of them Skyped David and told him, or at least Rebecca did. She decided that it was her job to spread the good news, and she did everything but shout it from a mountaintop. David almost fell out of his seat upon hearing the news, and once he recovered, it turned out that he had some news himself. He'd bought a ring for his girlfriend, and he showed the sparkling diamond to his family through the camera. Bucky gave him advice on how to propose properly, and Adelaide demanded to be "best man" when the wedding happened. Summer offered to plan the whole thing for them, and David was on the verge of a panic attack by the time the conversation ended - but the _good_ kind of a panic attack, if there was such a thing.

And later that day, after they'd told all of their friends and family and the hubbub had died down, Bucky showed Summer that morning's newspaper headline. Having known what Bucky had asked of the President and thus having anticipated this, Summer looked up at him with happiness and relief on her face and kissed him in reply. She never would have guessed before that reading of her husband's death in a newspaper would have made her so happy and brought such a sense of peace to them both.

And so, with their lives and destinies back in their own hands, they set out to reclaim their freedom. After taking to the kids and making sure that they were on board, they finished out the school year in Florida and then the family moved back to New York to be close to not only David but to Summer's brother Paul and all of their friends. They found a cute little house just outside of NYC and moved in when Summer was eight months pregnant and nearly ready to burst. Then, when she was just one week shy of hitting the nine month mark, she went into labor and gave birth at a hospital in Brooklyn.

While he wasn't the little sister that Rebecca had been hoping for, Jesse Steven Barnes was born at the wee hours of the morning to two overwhelmingly happy parents and three siblings who would each fall in love with him instantly. He was the last little piece of their family to fall into place, and with him, they were complete at last. They were whole and together and happy, and his birth marked the start of their new lives together. And there was a lot of life left to live for both Bucky and Summer, even more so for their precious children.

Everything having come beautifully full circle, it was by far the best homecoming that Bucky could have ever asked for. His home wasn't a country or a city or even a house, but it was instead his family and the woman who had made it all possible. _She_ was his home, and so long as he had her and she had him, they were both truly _home_.

And this time, their home would never be ripped away or threatened again.


End file.
